Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a normal day in the town of Mystic Falls, Virginia.

The sun hung brightly in the hot, midday sky.
The historic town square hummed with the quiet activity of the townspeople.
The smell of fries and sizzling burger meat wafted from the Mystic Grill.
And the rowdy Timberwolf jocks laughed and jaunted down the main street, cheerleaders on one arm and bags of food in the other.

But the most normal thing about today?

A pissed off Caroline Forbes-Salvatore.

"How the hell could you do this?!"

The Salvatore Boarding School For The Young and Gifted sat on the edge of town, tucked away in the forests like an old statue in a manor garden. Past it's enchanted iron gates and within it's burgundy, wooden walls sat the Headmaster's office. And within this office, Caroline was delivering one of her signature verbal thrashings.

The recipient? A mysterious benefactor of the school - a man who had almost no contact with Caroline or the school until a week ago.

Most of the school's contributors visited the school on occasion or even stayed in town as guests. But this benefactor didn't even set foot in the school.

No visit, no inspection, only a cheque for fifty-thousand dollars and one other item - a lapis-blue drawstring bag.

And then there was the third thing the donor left at the school - the reason why Caroline was so angry today.

"Are you even going to say goodbye?" Caroline asked, indicating to the hallway outside. "Or are you just going to dump him here like a piece of trash? Come on! He deserves a goodbye at le-"

Dial tone.

"Hello? Hello?! Dammit!"

Caroline groaned as she slammed the phone back onto the hook. But her frustration overtook her self-control, cracking the phone in half and knocking a photo frame over in the process.

"Oh, for f-!"

But she stopped the final word before it slipped out, her attention shifting to the toppled photograph.

Caroline sighed as she picked it up, dusting off the edge of the frame with a weak smile.

The photo held two subjects, Caroline in a pearl-white wedding dress and a handsome, dark-haired man in a suit.

Caroline sat on the man's lap in the photo, their wedding rings shining brightly in the sunlight and their smiles even brighter.

Stefan... Caroline thought sadly.

Memories bubbled to the surface as she closed her eyes; memories of one day in particular.

It was the first days of Caroline becoming a vampire, a day when she and Stefan had traded stories of their experiences.

He had told her about the tumultuous emotions that came with vampirism, that one's human traits were 'magnified'.

Caroline had been uneasy about her chances of becoming an over the top, vampiric drama queen. Stefan however, seemed amused by the fact.

But now, here she was - letting that drama queen show as she talked back to the school's newest donor, thinking she knew what it meant to be a headmistress or a people-person. All because she let her emotions get the better of her.

"Ughhh," Caroline groaned. "Why is Alaric never here to deal with this stuff?"

She sighed, clutching the photograph to her chest.

Oh, Stefan. What am I supposed to do?

The floorboards creaked outside the door.

Caroline gasped, putting the photograph back onto the desk as she peered through a crack in the door.

"...Who's there?" she asked.

Was someone there? Or were her heightened senses playing tricks on her again?

A small hand crept into the doorway, nudging it open and allowing a young face to peer in.

It was a little boy's face, no more than six years old, with fair porcelain skin and ink-black hair. His features were soft and round - a doll-like face that betrayed a Japanese heritage.

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief.

"Nolan, sweetie, you startled me!"

The boy - Nolan - stopped in his tracks, his head bowed as his little hands bunched up the front of his shorts.

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Are you hungry? Are the other kids being nice to you?"

Nolan stayed silent, his bright, round eyes watching Caroline intently.

Caroline felt her heart squeeze. He was so cute!

But her heart began to sink as Nolan's eyes fell upon the broken phone, his fingers tightening on his shorts.

"...Was that my Daddy?"

His question took Caroline by surprise, the vampiress pursing her lips as she searched for an answer.

"Um...yeah, it was! He was just calling to make sure you were doing okay!"

Nolan hung his head.

"Yeah!" Caroline repeated, putting on the most chipper voice she could. "We were talking about the school, all the exciting new classes you'll do, all the cool friends you're going to make, how long you'll be staying-"

"Forever." Nolan mumbled.

Caroline went silent.

"He wants me to stay here forever, doesn't he? Because he doesn't wanna see me again, right?"

His big eyes started to well with tears, causing Caroline's heart to sink

"I-I didn't mean to hurt them like that!" the boy exclaimed. "I-I didn't know! I p-promise I'll be good! Will Dad still want me if I promise to be good? I swear I-I will be!"

Nolan's tears finally began to fall, filling Caroline with panic. She gasped and ran towards him, holding the boy in her arms.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no!" she hushed. "It's not like that at all!"

But her words did nothing to soothe Nolan's cries. The boy clung to her sleeves, crying into the crook of her neck.

Caroline felt a pang of anger as she held Nolan, rubbing her hand up and down the child's back.

How could Nolan's father be so heartless? How could he just abandon him like this? Without even calling to say goodbye?

Nolan kept crying, hiccups rattling out from his parched throat.

Loss. Confusion. Frustration. Inadequacy. Sadness. If Caroline had a dollar for every time she experienced these emotions, she could practically trademark them.

"No, sweetie." she sighed, holding the boy close. "Your dad loves you, I know it. It's just...complicated."

Nolan made a small sniffling sound, his fingers clutching Caroline's jacket sleeves.

"C-Compcated?" he asked, drawing away from the embrace.

Caroline stifled a giggle. "Complicated." she corrected. "It means...it means something that's hard to talk about. With a really tricky answer."

Nolan sniffed again, wiping his runny nose and puffy eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"C'mon, sweetie." Caroline smiled, tousling his hair. "No tears, okay?"

Nolan nodded, wiping the rest of his tears away. As he calmed down, two children appeared in the doorway.

They looked about Nolan's age, except they were both girls - one blonde and the other brunette. Both of them wore the same Salvatore uniform - blue skirts, blazers and white knee-high socks, each emblazoned with the school logo.

The girls looked at Caroline with expectant eyes but turned their gazes towards Nolan, the blonde girl wrinkling her nose.

"Who're you?"

Nolan whimpered and hid behind Caroline as the little girl glared at him, prompting Caroline to stand upright with pursed lips.

"Lizzie!" she frowned. "Manners!"

The blonde girl - Lizzie? - shirked back, taking the brunette girl's hand as if shielding herself from Caroline's ire.

But Caroline smiled at them and knelt down beside Nolan, putting her hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Girls,'' she beamed. "This is Nolan. He'll be staying with us here at the school. Be nice to him, okay?"

"Okay." the girls said in unison.

As the girls smiled at Nolan, Caroline patted him on the back, nudging him towards the girls with a bright smile.

"Go on, Nolan." she whispered. "It's okay."

Nolan shook his head, scampering back behind Caroline like a frightened animal.

"Nolan." Caroline repeated. "Come on."

But Nolan still wouldn't budge, the boy clinging onto Caroline's knee for dear life.

Caroline put her hands on her hips, giving Nolan a look. But before she could speak, the brunette girl stepped forward, stopping before Nolan's eyes.

"C'mon." she insisted, holding out her hand. "Me an' Lizzie can show you the school!"

Nolan leaned the slightest bit away from Caroline.

"My name's Josie." the girl grinned. "Do you wanna be my friend?"

Nolan stepped away from Caroline, blushing as he looked at the girl's smiling face.

...Her eyes are pretty.

Trembling, the boy took her hand, letting her lead him away from Caroline and into the hallway outside.

"Stay inside and don't wander off, okay?" Caroline called out. "I love you, girls!"

"We love you too, Mommy!" the girls called back.

Caroline sighed with relief as the three left the room, Lizzie and Josie each taking one of Nolan's hands.

When she was certain the children were out of earshot, Caroline turned her attention back to the silk bag on her desk.

She picked it up and held it in her hands, looking at it with trepidation. But her trepidation turned into curiosity, however, when she felt something rolling around inside the bag.

Caroline threw away her caution and drew the bag open, the object in question clattering onto the desk.

"What the heck?"

It was a ball, no larger than a small plum, wrapped up in a thin golden chain.

It's surface was smoother than marble and tepid to the touch, with an opaque, dull-grey core.

Caroline narrowed her eyes.

But as she stared deeper into it, Caroline could have sworn that there was something inside it - a swirling shape like the eye of a hurricane or a ball of fire.

What was this thing? Was it enchanted? Some kind of witch thing?
It looked valuable - important.

Why would Nolan's father abandon him but leave him with something this precious? It didn't make sense!

But that was par for the course around here. As normal as could be.

Caroline slumped back in her chair. 

It was a normal day in Mystic Falls. But as she stared deeper into the ball's misty-grey core, an unsettling feeling crept up Caroline's back.

Like this was the last normal day the town was going to have for a very long time.

Chapter Text

Despite it’s reputation, the Salvatore Boarding School For The Young and Gifted was actually quite similar to the average school.
Like other schools, the Salvatore student body had it's jocks. Only they were prone to shape shifting under a full moon.
It's cliques were like any other, barring their ability to cast spells and hexes.
And who could forget the creepy loner kids? Only these kids dialled up the creepy a few extra notches. Blood-drinking and all.
Basketball? Wickory. Chemistry? Chemistry of Magic. Biology? Origin of the Supernatural Species.
And group assignments? Well, they were just as bad as normal group assignments.
As the Salvatore witches knew all too well…
"...and because some spells are stronger when cast in a group, most covens make sure to foster trust and teamwork amongst their members.”
The man at the front of the room seemed to be in his own little paradise, his smile wide as he scribbled note after note on the blackboard.
"Mr. Williams," one of the many bored witches spoke up. "We've already gone over those stuff."
Dorian Williams turned to face his student, the sun glowing on his chocolate skin like a halo.
“Yeah.” he answered smugly. “But since your last teacher incinerated himself, I’m the best teacher you’ve got. And I like to go over the basics.”
A chorus of groans resounded from the class as Dorian went back to the chalkboard. Ignoring them, the teacher added a new diagram - a straight line with three stick figures.
"Now to build trust quicker between new witches, covens developed 'chain spells' - demonstrations of magic that can only be performed by two, three or more witches. And while they might look cool and flashy, they can only be pulled off with finesse, control and trust in the people you’re linking with.”

Dorian put the chalk down, turning to face the class.

"Alright," he clapped his hands together. "You guys know the drill. You've all been put into groups of three to demonstrate a chain spell. You'll each be assessed on technique, power, control and your bond with your partners. Any questions?"
The witches remained silent as Dorian took a clipboard off the nearby desk.
"Alright, Serena, Wade and Marcus - you guys are first up for the demonstration."
An excited smile appeared on Wade's face, an enthusiasm unshared by his team-mates.
"Alyssa, Lizzie, Kane," Dorian continued. "You guys will be up second."
Again, a lackluster response.
"And then," Dorian finished, taking a head count. "It's Josie, Penelope and Nol-"
He stopped abruptly, looking around the room in confusion.
"Wait, where's Nolan?"

******

Now, this was much better.
The boy lounged lazily under the sunlight, his hands tucked under his head as he grinned at the sky.
The young man knew his place, that he should be in a classroom facing a chalkboard or in the library with his nose in a book.
Instead, here he was, lying on the grass by the lake, with the motivation of a slug and posture of a contorted sloth.
And honestly? It couldn't be better.
Because here, far beyond the school walls and just beyond the shady trees, the boy felt truly at ease. At peace.
The way the invigorating scent of the lake mingled with the sweetness of the flowers. The gentle trilling of the cicadas and whistling birds. The coolness of the soft grass beneath his back and fingertips. The gentle spring breeze washing over, under and through his body.
And the sun. God, the sun. The way it warmed his skin and breathed vitality into every cell in his body - bliss.
He smiled dreamily and unbottoned his school shirt, the gentle heat tickling his bare chest and stomach.
How could everyone be so preoccupied with the indoors? Why were they so obsessed with finding reasons to stay inside, when they had all this on the outside? The sun, the sky, the breeze - screw the indoors! He’d rather spend a day outside in the thunder and rain than minute inside on the comfiest couch. Yep, total, uninterruped bli- Oh, god, what was that smell?!
The youth wrinkled his nose as the stench of designer fragrance and sandalwood filled the air. Not a moment later, he felt someone looming over him.
"I don't know who you are," the boy grimaced. "But you're in my sun."
The silhouetted figure scoffed, putting a hand on one of it’s hips.
“And you’re wasting my time.” a female voice retorted. “Guess we’re both pains in each others asses.”
The boy smirked as he recognised the voice.
“Penelope Park making time for little old me.” he chuckled under his breath. “I feel honoured.”
“You’re lucky you’re feeling anything, skipping class like this.” Penelope said. “Dorian looked like he was about to snap his clipboard in half and drag you back himself, Nolan.”
“It’s Noel.” Nolan - or rather Noel, corrected her, gritting his teeth. “Stop calling me that.”
He winced as he momentarily opened his eyes, holding a hand above his eyebrows.
“And if you’re gonna loom over me, could you do it a few inches to the left? You're in my sun.”
"Oh, Nolan," she cooed. "Don't you know that you're not supposed to sit in the sun so long?"
She cocked her brunette head at Noel's collar.
"Don't want to get a melanoma on that pretty little tattoo of yours."
Noel opened one eye, glancing down at the 'tattoo' in question.
It was an abyss-black mark, shaped like a teardrop and about the size of a small fist. It sat just below Noel's right collarbone, drawing in Noel's gaze like a black hole.
"It's not a tattoo." Noel grumbled, shutting his eyes again. "It's a birthmark."
"Yeahhhh, no." Penelope droned. "That's way too distinctive for a birthmark."
"Does it matter?" Noel argued. "Birthmark or not, it's there. For as long as I can remember."

He scoffed.

"But I really wouldn't put it past my 'dad'. Tattooing a kid isn't too far down the ladder from abandoning one."

"Yeah, whatevs." Penelope groaned, rolling her eyes. "I came here to drag you back to class. Not hear about your daddy issues."
“Well consider it a wasted journey.” Noel snapped back. “‘Cos I’m not going. Give my regards to Dorian though.”

Penelope glanced up at the sun hovering in the sky, a mischievous smile growing on her face.

"...You sure about that, Nolan?"

Noel's face twitched at the mention of his full name. "Yes."

The smile on Penelope’s face grew wider as she shut her eyes, gathering her magic as she focused on the sunbeams.
"Intesifa."

The incantation rang in Noel's ears like a klaxon siren, the youth bolting upright with a gasp.

But it was too late. By the time his palms met the grass, the heat of the sunbeam intensified, burning his chest.

"Oww! Jesus Christ!" Noel exclaimed, jumping up with a start. "Are you crazy?!"

Penelope smiled smugly. "Well, I'm stuck in a group assignment with you. So I'm about halfway there."

Noel ignored her, wincing as he fanned his sunburn with his shirt. The skin was hot to the touch and the brightest shade of red-pink the boy had ever seen. And that was to say nothing of the searing, cold-hot pain.

Penelope smirked as Noel’s gaze met hers. The boy sighing as he let his hands fall to his sides.
“...I’m not going to that class.” he frowned, his face awash with concern. “You think I’m an idiot?”
Penelope said nothing, her face still as stone. She knew the reason Noel was so apprehensive about going to class. Everyone did. Noel, Penelope, the coven. Hell, even other students outside the coven. The reason being...
“Every time I walk into that classroom,” Noel sighed. “You, Alyssa and the rest of the witches all either make fun of me, ignore me or mock me - and that’s just a normal class.”
Again, Penelope was silent. The Park witch folded her arms and looked down guiltily.
“...I-I can’t control it.” Noel hung his head. “I can’t control my magic. I keep trying, but-"
“Look,” Penelope sighed. “That doesn’t matter, it-”
“You know there’s an assignment today. So what’s the plan? You all gonna make fun of me when I fail the chain spell? Laugh at me when I try? Oh! Maybe you’ll all just sabotage-”
“Okay,” Penelope groaned, holding up her hand. “One, I’m sorry for making fun of you that time. But you did almost set yourself and the teacher on fire - kinda hard not to laugh. Two, Dorian’s watching the assessment so maybe he’ll cover you. And three, my grade is riding on yours so they sure as hell better not sabotage us.”
She crossed her arms, giving Noel a sideways look.
“Now, are you gonna haul ass back to the classroom? Or am I gonna have to burn something else?”
Noel rolled his eyes. Sighing in defeat, he scooped up his blue school jacket, wrapping it around himself as he stormed away.
“Penelope Park,” he groaned. “Always the diplomat.”
“Just walk.” Penelope clapped back. “And please do your shirt up!"

******

The energy of the chain spell flowed effortlessly between Alyssa and her partners. Still as a cloud and gentle as a summer breeze.
It lingered for a moment, their conjoined arms glowing a glittery gold, before it dissipated completely.
"Perfect!" Dorian praised, marking off his checkboard. "Kane, extra points for attentiveness."
Kane said nothing, tugging his open-crowned hat as he went back to his desk.
"Lizzie, great work maintaining control. Good to see you're improving!"
The blonde Saltzman grinned proudly.
"And Alyssa. Fantastic work maintaining the core of the spell and extra points for flair."
Alyssa winked at the class, bowing with a overt flourish.
"Show-off." Lizzie groaned.
Alyssa flicked a lock of her hair. "Well, you know what they say; when you've got talent - flaunt it."
She looked Lizzie up and down with disinterested eyes.
"Not that you'd know anything about talent..."
Lizzie glared at Alyssa, storming over to her until Dorian spoke up:
"Okay, girls," he warned. No need to get catty."
Alyssa smirked as Lizzie backed away, her eyes still narrowed.
"Okay," Dorian murmured, tapping his checkboard. "Next up is Josie, Penelope and Nolan."
Josie nodded and left her desk, moving to the front as Alyssa put her hands on her hips.
"Oh, wonderful," she sighed smugly. "The exes and their defective third wheel..."
A bout of stifled laughter rattled across the room, prompting a frown from Dorian.
"That's enough." he warned the class. “You shouldn’t laugh at your classmates’ expense.”
“At their expense? Not even when they’re expendable?” Alyssa snickered.
More laughter, only this time, the witches didn’t even try to hide it. Almost a third of them were hunched over their desks, holding their sides as they cackled uproariously at Nolan’s expense.
All except for Lizzie and Josie.
"Shut up, Alyssa." the blonde twin spoke. "Not all of us are talented show-offs like you!"
"Well, look at this!" Alyssa scoffed. "One freak sticking up for another! Y'know I'd be a little more worried about this if I were you. What if Nolan's magic goes out of control again and he hurts Josie? What if he sets your sister on fire-?"
“...Then maybe you should swap places with her.”
The witches piped down as Noel entered the room, his eyes narrowed as Penelope followed close behind him.
“Because if blowing you up is the next assessment, Alyssa, I’m shooting for an ‘A’.”
Alyssa sneered at him as Dorian ticked off Noel’s name on the checkboard.
“Nolan,” the man sighed. “About time you got ba- Whoa, what the hell happened to you?!”
Noel rolled his eyes and buttoned his shirt up further. “Penelope’s sick idea of motivation.”
“Don’t be a little bitch, Nolan.” Penelope chided as she "Just put some aloe vera on it and grow a pair.”
"O-Okay," Dorian murmured, his eyes glued to Noel's sunburn. "Just uh...come up to the front and link hands with Josie and Penelope. Then we can get this started.
Noel marched up to the front, his heart sinking with every step.
"Thanks for having my back, by the way." he added, slapping Dorian's upper arm. "All that knowledge and you still don't know how to grow a spine?"
Dorian frowned at him.
"And it's Noel." the youth added.
"Alright," Dorian sighed. "You've made your point. Can you start the demonstration now?"
Noel frowned as he took Penelope's hand and led her to the front, the Park witch smirking at his discomfort.
"Try not to enjoy yourself too much, Nolan." she cooed.
"I'll try to restrain myself." Noel sighed.
Penelope extended her free hand towards Josie, giving the girl a seductive wink.
"Milady?"
Josie groaned as she took Penelope's hand, ignoring the sensation of the latter's thumb brushing her skin.
"Okay," Dorian instructed. "First, the incantation. When you're ready."
Noel's throat started to close up as he gathered his magic, the boy's hands shaking.
"Hey." a voice whispered.
Noel looked to his right to see Josie smiling at him.
"You've got this." she encouraged. "It'll be okay."
"Oh, get a room." Penelope groaned.
Noel bit his lip and resumed his magic gathering, willing his anxiety away as he cast the incantation:
"Phasmatos, et torquem aedificem."
The ends of Noel's fingertips began to glow, the yellow warmth slowly migrating onto Penelope's knuckles.
"Good." Dorian remarked. "Penelope, you're up."
"Phasmatos, et torquem ponere." Penelope recited.
The yellow light travelled from her left hand and across her shoulders, lingering on Josie's hand.
"Alright Josie, your turn." Dorian said. "And after Josie casts the incantation, I want you all to hold the spell for a half minute."
The trio nodded, though Noel seemed unsure.
Please don't mess up. he begged himself. Please don't mess up, please don't mess up…
"Phasmatos, et torquem ponere." he incanted. "Phasmatos, et torquem ponere. Phasmatos, et- agh!"
The words suddenly felt thick in Noel's throat, the boy losing his train of thought.
Alyssa groaned. "Oh great! It's happening again!"
"No!" Noel groaned. "I-I can do this!"
He held tighter onto Penelope's hand.
"Phasmatos, et torquem ponere! Phasmatos - arghhh!"
A sharp, burning pain flared up the boy's whole right side. He grit his teeth, trying to fight the pain. But as he struggled, the words of the incantation were suddenly gone from his mind, as if his tongue refused to speak them.
No, no, no! Not now!!
"NOEL!" Dorian called out.
Noel snapped out of his daze and jumped away as a surge of energy shot up Penelope's left arm, the girl screaming in agony.
The rest of the witches backed up and away from their desks as Josie dropped to Penelope's side. Hesitantly, the girl gripped her ex-lover by the shoulders, her fingertips glowing rust-brown.
Noel gasped. "Wait, Jo-!"
But Josie shut her eyes, the energy building around Penelope slowly dissipating. Within moments, all trace of it was gone, leaving only a dazed Penelope.
"Shit, Penelope!" Nola gasped, falling onto his kness. "A-Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't-!"
Penelope groaned and nudged him away.
"It's cool..." she winced. "I-I'll live...thanks to JoJo..."
Noel pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around the Park witch, holding her close.
"Here, I'll take you to the Nurse's Office-"
"Get the hell away from her!"
Noel whirled around to see Alyssa and the other witches standing up from their desks, each of them staring daggers at him.
The witch swallowed and glanced sideways at Dorian, who nodded at him, giving the boy the signal to stand.
"I didn't mean to-" Noel began, but Alyssa cut him off.
"You said that last time!" the girl snapped. "And the time before that and the time before that. Every time your magic blows up and then you pretend like it never happened!"
"Now hold on, Alyssa." Dorian defended. "That's why I put Josie in group. So she could siphon the magic if anything went wrong."
"And how long before Nolan blows her up too?!" Alyssa retorted. She turned to face the rest of the witches, rallying them to her side.
"He's dangerous and you all know it! He shouldn't be allowed anywhere near this school or us!"
A group of 'Yeahs!' rang out across the room, at least a third of the witches taking a step forward. But before they could get any closer to Nolan, Dorian stepped forward.
"Hey, come on guys." he said firmly. "Give it a rest. Everything's under control now-"
"For how long?" a witch called out.
"What happens next time?!" another questioned.
"Yeah!" Alyssa barked. "How long are you gonna endanger us by keeping this braindead defective around?"
Her words tore straight through Noel's heart, like the cold edge of an icy blade.
"Alyssa!" Dorian shouted. "Apologize right now!!"
But Alyssa wasn't finished.
"No!" she challenged. "And why should I apologize for him not being in control?!"
"Because-!" Dorian began.
Shut up.
A hot wind tore through the room, slamming the doors shut and knocking over the desks and chairs. Everybody jolted with fright, even as the wind died down. In a split-second, the entire room darkened. Every candle was snuffed out. Every lightbulb flickered and shut off. Every phone began to buzz and fizzle out. Even the sun in the window panes grew cold, as if something were blocking it's rays.
And Dorian already had one guess where it was coming from.
Noel hadn’t moved, but something was wrong with him. His head was bowed and his fists were shaking at his sides. As Dorian approached him, heard heard Noel muttering to himself, his voice shaking and fearful.
“Noel!” Dorian exclaimed. “I’m gonna need you to calm down!”
Noel's eyes flashed open, but they were different from the ones Dorian remembered.
His irises were a luminous white and his sclerae were jet black, like a starless night.
"Noel!" Dorian called out.
But Noel wasn’t listening. All emotion had vanished from his face and the venom was still spewing from his eyes.
The wind and the dry heat had vanished, but the malicious energy lingered, shrouding Noel like a heavy cloak. The boy took a single step forward, his predatory gaze fixated on Alyssa.
Alyssa, forgetting her snide smugness, took a single step backwards.
“Insult me one more time, you little bitch.” Noel sneered, his voice low and guttural. “And I’ll show you just how ‘out of control’ my magic really is.”
The magic in the air was all but suffocating now, cracking the windows and fouling the very air.
Alyssa’s body temperature was starting to rise. Her throat was beginning to constrict, as if choked by some phantom grip. And her eyes began to burn, the witch blinking back tears.
Alyssa's discomfort brought satisfaction to Noel’s darkened face, his white irises gleaming.
Good. a sadistic thought urged at the back of his mind. Let her suffer. She's put me down for too long! Tried to use me as an excuse to curry favour with the other witches! Let her suffer, let her hurt- let her BURN-!"
"Noel!"
Noel snapped out of his trance as a pair of hands closed around his, the worried face of Josie Saltzman standing before him.
"Noel." she whispered. "It's okay. It's alright."
The soft lowness of Josie's voice drew Noel back from the edge, the soft, chocolate brown of her eyes quelling his rage.
Noel's eyes returned to their normal, dark auburn and his breathing steadied; the magic energy around him vanishing.
"J-Josie?"
"Shh." Josie hushed, putting a hand against his cheek. "It's okay, it's all okay-"
"No!" Noel snapped, pushing her hands away. "I-It's not, I-!"
He looked down, tears threatening to spill from his as he stormed over to the doors.
"Nolan!" Dorian called out. "You can't leave now! We still have to grade your assessment-!"
“Then fail me!” Noel yelled, throwing his arms up. “Hell, expel me if you want to!"
He dropped his hands as Dorian looked at him with unease.
"It's not like anyone here wants me anyway!"
And without another word, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
"That's right! Leave!" Alyssa called out. "You stupid defecti-"
"Oh, shut up, Alyssa." Lizzie barked.

Chapter Text

The flames flickered on the cemetery's old stone floor, licking the weathered effigies and tombstones with their white-hot heat. 

The burst of magic energy had been as terrible as it had been unseen; springing forth from practically nowhere and blanketing the entire area in ivory flames. 

Miraculously, no-one had been harmed. Through some act of ancestral protection, providence or sheer luck, each of the witches got away unharmed. 

Except for the little boy. 

A child lay in the centre of the chaos, face-down on the worn cobblestones. 

Thirty witches emerged from their hiding places, peering over the tombstones, alcoves and crypt walls to assess the boy's condition. 

Was he dead? Surely no-one could have survived that! 

But the boy started to stir, whimpering as the seared skin on his arms rubbed against the dead grass and stone beneath him. 

He got to his knees, his vision blurred as the flames began to snuff themselves out. 

"Nolan?" a voice asked. 

The boy turned around as a man emerged from the crowd, staring at the child in disbelief. 

"...Daddy?" he asked weakly. "W-What...happened?" 

But the man said nothing, his dark features stricken with panic as he beheld an unseen thing behind Nolans' little form. 

"Nolan…" he repeated, his voice shaky. "What the hell...have you done?" 

*******

Noel's eyes flashed open, the boy drawing a sharp breath as he woke. 

An alarm clock chirped incessantly on his bedside table, rattling on its silver, pin-sized legs until Noel swatted it's top. 

Silence. 

The boy rolled over in bed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the dream lingered in his mind. 

Ugh , he thought drearily. Nothing like a bad memory to start the day.

He kicked off his checkered black comforter and sat upright, the chilly morning air tickling his naked torso. Noel ignored it and staggered into the bathroom, washing away his grogginess with some splashes of hot water. 

As the water trickled down his chin, more memories flooded his mind - recollections of the day before. 

...It happened again. He lost control. 

God, that was the third time in the last five months. When was it going to end? 

Noel sighed, looking at his reflection in the basin mirror. 

His skin was a dry, icy-white, like a weathered marble statue, with faint bluish-red bags under his eyes. The boy's hair wasn't faring any better, dangling in thin bangs down the front of his forehead, the tips a frosty white. 

Noel bit his lip. 

Greying hair. Another pain in the boy's ass; one that seemed to worsen with every fit and outburst he had. 

When he first came to the Salvatore School as a child, the greyness stuck to a few stray hairs - now it covered the whole front and right of his bangs. 

Everyone had their own theories on why his hair acted this way. Dorian and Alaric believed it was a 'witch's mark'. Emma assumed it was Marie-Antoinette Syndrome and Alyssa Chang thought it was a 'crappy fashion statement'. 

'I don't care what it is,' Noel always told them. 'I just want it gone.' 

He dried his face on a nearby towel, moving over to a brown chest of drawers at the foot of his bed. The witch reached out to the topmost drawer but suddenly froze as he glanced at his forearms. 

.. .He almost forgot the scars. 

Noel's throat tightened as he looked at forearms, beholding the scarred skin that stretched from his elbows to his palms. 

The scars were thin, barely the width of a pipe cleaner, but stretched out in raised, lightning-like webs. Any area that wasn't covered in scars was either dry or covered in pale pink skin. 

His throat tightened as he looked at his arms, the crisscrossing pink lines reflecting in his eyes. 

Nightmares, greying hair and outbursts, but it was the scars that were the worst. 

Nightmares didn't occur all that frequently. The greying hair could be trimmed down or partly dyed. And the outbursts, for the most part, could be avoided.  

But nothing helped with the scars. They weren't on or off like the nightmares. They couldn't be hidden or obscured like the white and grey hairs. And they certainly couldn't be managed in any way. 

The scars were just there . And they... 

Noel balled his hands into fists. 

...And they were hideous. Yet another reminder of what he suffered through that day. 

The boy tore his eyes away and returned to the chest of drawers, pulling out a black hoodie and grey-white skinny jeans. He tossed the clothes onto his bed with a scowl, as if he were throwing a knife into someone's back and started to pull down his pyjama pants...

The door swung open, an exasperated Lizzie Saltzman marching inside. 

"Oh, thank God , you're finally up and - WHOA!" 

She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Noel pulling down his pants, the blonde witch letting out an ear-piercing shriek. 

Noel gasped, pulling his pants up so fast that he almost gave himself a wedgie. 

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, falling back against his drawers. "You ever hear of knocking ?!" 

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!" Lizzie sobbed, clapping her hands over her eyes. "I've been scarred for life!" 

Noel gave silent thanks that his pants only made it halfway down his thigh before Lizzie barged in, the boy standing upright with folded arms. 

"What are you doing here, Lizzie?" he asked tersely. Honestly, was nowhere safe?

But Lizzie was still flustered, averting her eyes with a dramatic flourish. "J-Just cover-up, will you?!"

Noel rolled his eyes at Lizzie's newfound prudishness, snatching up a shirt from his bed and holding it over his chest like a bra. 

"What are you doing here , Elizabeth?" 

The mention of her full name got Lizzie's attention, the blonde folding her arms as she finally looked Noel in the eye. 

She wore a flowery, white collared shirt, with a red bow tied around her neck and a cobalt-blue jacket draped around her shoulders. 

Around her waist, fastened by a thin black belt, was a pair of sea-green plaid pants, complemented by a pair of Doc Martens so white, Noel could see the roof reflected on the soles. 

"Hmm," she twirled a lock of icy-blonde hair around a finger. "Long version or the short version?" 

"The 'Whatever-The-Hell-Gets-You-Out-Of-My-Room' version." Noel seethed. 

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Dad went on a trip to Georgia State with that she-devil Hope Mikaelson," she grit her teeth as she said Hope's name. "Apparently they found out about some supernatural kid stuck in a dead-end foster home, and now they want to enrol them here at the school." 

Noel's grip on his shirt relaxed. 

"Hope Mikaelson isn't here?" he joked. "I thought the school felt less intense." 

He almost dropped the shirt, but as he lowered his arms, his scars came into view. 

Noel's heart leapt into his throat, fearing that Lizzie saw them, but she was too busy looking around the room. 

He pressed the shirt back against his chest, turning his forearms and wrists away from Lizzie's eyes. 

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Lizzie groaned, oblivious to Noel's insecurity. "Dad texted Josie and me a few minutes ago to say that they just crossed the Mystic Falls county line. They'll be here any minute and-"

"...And this has what to do with me?" Noel asked, fearing the answer. 

Lizzie clapped her hands, a devilish smile on her face as she reached down towards a battered, white tote bag at her feet. The blonde witch reached inside, dusting off a plastic-wrapped Salvatore school blazer. 

"Here." she offered in a sing-songy voice. 

Noel's brow furrowed. Why was Lizzie Saltzman giving him a school blazer? Barring the fact that she was offering him something, the school's official blazers were notoriously expensive. As such, they were only worn by wealthier students or on formal duties like school excursions, assemblies or tour guides and-

Noel's eyes widened. 

"Oh, hell no!! " he exclaimed. "I'm not playing tour guide for you, Saltzman! That's yours and Josie's job!" 

But Lizzie stormed over and shoved the blazer into Noel's arms, a smug expression on her face. 

"And now it's yours ." she said gleefully. 

Noel still wasn't convinced. "You can't be serious." 

" Dead serious." Lizzie scowled. "Which is exactly what you'll be if you don't hurry the hell up." 

Okay, now Noel was convinced. He groaned in defeat and put the blazer on top of his drawers and entered the bathroom. 

"I'm going to need twenty minutes to shower and get dressed and-" 

"You have ten , Nolan." the girl snapped. "Now haul ass!" 

And without another word, she slammed the door shut. 

Noel seethed as he turned the hot water on in the shower. 

"It's Noel! " he called out. 

******

"Eleven minutes and twenty-five seconds." 

Lizzie tucked her phone away in her pocket, glancing behind her at Noel. 

"Not a very good timekeeper, are you?" she asked curtly. 

Noel groaned, tugging on the sleeves of his blazer. 

"Are you seriously gonna start micromanaging me?" he asked, gritting his teeth. 

The two of them had long since left Noel's room and started down the hallway. They passed by the rows of dorm-rooms, the sunlit, auburn walls and ornate wooden stairwells - all on their way to the foyer. 

Thank goodness that everyone was stuck in class or outside watching the Wickery game - fewer people to see Lizzie drag Noel around like a brain-dead puppy dog. 

"You complain too much." Lizzie groaned, flipping back her blonde hair. 

"You volunteered me for a job you know I hate doing." Noel retorted. "If I'd done that to you , there'd be pieces of me scattered across Mystic Falls right now." 

She smirked. 

"Maybe I should've asked Josie to come and get you. Probably would have complained less." 

Noel narrowed his eyes, momentarily forgetting his discomfort. 

"What are you trying to say, Lizzie ?" 

Lizzie kept her back to Noel, but the boy could already tell that she was rolling her eyes. 

"Come off it, Nolan." she groaned. "We all know you have the hots for my sister." 

"Oh, for fuck's sake !"

There it was! There they went again! The same question everyone had been pestering him with since Day One. 

Do you like Josie?

Again and again, people have asked that question. From those bitchy, bratty little witches to those nosy vampires - even those butt-sniffing werewolves had to chime in! 

Do you like Josie? Do you ‘ like’ like Josie? Are you in love with Josie? How long have you been hot for her? Again and again and again! 

And (in case it wasn't already clear) Noel was sick of it. Even more than his outbursts and greying hair.

"For the millionth time." Noel scowled. "I don't like Josie like that!" 

"So you say," Lizzie sighed. "But people are going to talk, Nolan. Especially after your little moment in class yesterday." 

Noel stopped fidgeting just long enough to feel his cheeks flush, recalling Josie's hands on his face yesterday in class. 

Her hands. They were so comforting. So warm- 

"She was just trying to help me." he defended, forcing the memory out of his mind. "Nothing else." 

Lizzie scoffed. "Didn't look like it from where I was standing." 

Noel opened his mouth to speak, but Lizzie groaned, her nostrils flaring as she folded her arms. 

"You might be a pain in the ass," the girl chided. "But I'd prefer you hooking up with Josie than that Blair Bitch , Penelope Park." 

Noel rolled his eyes. So Lizzie liked him better than the conniving, mean girl that made her life a living hell? What a ringing endorsement…

They finally reached the foyer, weaving past a group of junior students as they approached the doors. Lizzie stopped walking, clearing her throat and adjusting her bow. 

"Game faces on, Nolan." she grinned. "It's time to make an entrance ." 

Noel sighed. "...Yay…" 

Lizzie promptly opened the doors, rays of mid-morning sunlight flooding the entryway. A pang of disappointment filled Noel's heart as he looked around the driveway - no sign of Lizzie's father or a new student anywhere in sight. 

In fact, the driveway was completely empty, save for one solitary figure. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jo." Lizzie apologized. "Nolan had a little trouble getting ready." 

Noel would have given her the mother of all glares were Josie not present. The last thing he needed to do was make a bad impression on one of his last (or only) friend left. 

"... It's fine." Josie murmured. "Don't worry about it." 

Both of the twins were dressed in their best clothes, Noel thought. But where Lizzie had adopted a more casual look, Josie was the picture of elegance. 

She wore a simple navy-blue sweater with frilly sleeve cuffs that curled around her wrists. A scarlet-red mini-skirt hung around her waist, contrasting with the red and gold Salvatore' S' that shone proudly on her collar. 

A light scent tickled Noel's nose as they approached her, the faint but sweet smell of lavender perfume drawing him in. 

Noel swallowed. 

And to top it all off, Josie's brunette hair was done up in a neat ponytail, accentuating the delicate curve of her supple, swan-like neck- 

Noel shook his head, chiding himself as he tore his eyes away from Josie. 

Damn Lizzie and her stupid gossiping! Now he was too self-conscious to even look Josie's way! 

"...Hey, Noel." Josie suddenly said, breaking the silence. 

"Hi, Josie." Noel greeted in turn. His words were light, and his voice soft, but he didn't meet Josie's gaze as he spoke. 

Ignoring the tense atmosphere, the two of them fell into line alongside Lizzie - Noel on the blonde's right and Josie on Lizzie's left. 

Lizzie took a deep breath, a satisfied smile on her face. But Noel and Josie didn't share her enthusiasm - the two refusing to even look one another in the eye. 

Josie looked down, playing with her fingers and Noel stood at ease, feelings of guilt, frustration and embarrassment churning in his stomach. 

"...Are you okay?" Josie finally asked, lifting her head.

Noel was silent for a moment. 

"...I made an idiot out of myself in front of all the witches," he answered. "Pissed off Alyssa Chang, woke up with nightmares and just got grilled by your sister." 

Lizzie shot him a look. 

"No," he finished. "I feel like shit ." 

Josie bit her lower lip and looked down dejectedly. 

Noel sighed. That sounded a lot less harsh in his head… 

But Josie seemed unfazed by his sharp words. 

"You don't have to struggle like this." the witch said. "You know you can talk to me about...about stuff , right? Stuff that's bothering you?" 

Noel couldn't help but feel comforted by her words. But the sensation quickly faded as Noel recalled Josie's overly caring nature - her codependent, bleeding heart.

"I'm sure you say that to everyone." he grumbled. 

Lizzie smacked him on the arm, causing Noel to jump back. 

"Don't be an ass!" she snapped. "She's trying to help you!" 

Noel winced, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. 

"She's always nice." Noel defended. "That's the problem. And she doesn't need me adding to it." 

Josie looked away. 

"Besides," Noel added. "I don't need any help." 

Lizzie scoffed. "Oh, really? Because your little Carrie-style tantrum yesterday says otherwise." 

Noel ignored her. Was Lizzie Saltzman really giving him mental health advice? What was next, a seminar on making friends from Hope Mikaelson? A lecture on focus from Milton Greasley? 

A low sound rumbled from the other side of the courtyard, a dark jeep pulling up outside the school gate.

"There they are." Josie whispered, standing up straight. 

Noel observed the jeep as it approached, trying to sneak a peek at the Salvatore School's newest student.

"So who is this new student supposed to be?" he asked Lizzie, keeping one eye on the jeep.

Lizzie teetered on her heels, craning her neck. 

"Dunno," she said. "Dad was stingy on the details. But judging by all the chains he was cramming into the car, I'd guess a werewolf. 

Noel's blood ran cold. "W-Werewolf?!" 

"Don't freak out." Lizzie warned him. "We can't have your little werewolf issues freaking out the new kid." 

"It's not an 'issue'," Noel defended. "It's an aversion. A dislike ." 

"Whatever." Lizzie retorted. 

Noel shook his head as he looked back towards the driveway. The jeep was mere feet away from them. As it approached, Noel could make out the stoic face of Hope Mikaelson, her auburn hair shining in the sunlit car window. 

Beside her, in the driver's seat, was a handsome man with combed, brown and grey-streaked hair - Dr Alaric Saltzman, the Headmaster. 

But it was the boys in the back seat that warranted the most attention. 

"Hello, hottie ." Lizzie gasped, grinning from ear to ear. 

At first, Noel registered the boy on the far left seat, but his black, curly hair and awestruck expression didn't cater to Lizzie's tastes. 

Clearly, Noel realized, it was the other boy that Lizzie was eyeing; a tall, African-American boy with buzz-cut hair and a muscular frame wrapped up in a navy-blue hoodie. 

Hell, he even caught Noel's eye. But that was an indulgence for another time... 

The jeep came to a stop, Lizzie clearing her throat as the handsome boy stepped out. 

"Welcome to the Salvatore School." she beamed, her smile bright as sunshine. "We're your tour guides." 

"I'm Josie." Josie cut in. She gave the new boy a warm smile, which made Noel's heart sink. 

"I'm Lizzie." Lizzie introduced, smiling even more. "Sisters." 

"Twins." Josie corrected her. 

"Fraternal. Obvs ." 

The girls giggled, oblivious as their father exited the jeep with Hope and the other boy. 

The handsome boy nodded blankly and glanced at Noel, his dark eyes sending a rush through the young witch's body. 

"I'm Noel." Noel introduced himself mirthlessly. "No twin. Only child and unwilling participant." 

Lizzie glared at him again. Some choice words burned in the blonde witch's mouth, but before she could unleash them, Alaric put a hand on her shoulder. 

"Rafael." the Headmaster began. "Why don't you go ahead with the girls while I talk to Landon?" 

The curly-haired boy stiffened as Alaric said his name, a name that Noel quickly registered. 

Rafael and Landon. So those were their names. 

Lizzie and Josie approached Rafael, the two smiling as they linked arms with him, averting their eyes from Hope. 

"Morning, Hope." they droned.

"Morning, girls." Hope responded. Her voice was soft and welcoming, but even that wasn't enough for Lizzie. 

"More like despair ." she scoffed. 

"I heard that." Hope retorted, gritting her pearly teeth. 

"No, you didn't!" 

"Didn't have t-" 

"Everyone, behave ." Alaric ordered. 

"Love you, Dad!" the twins called out in unison. 

Alaric sighed as the twins led Rafael away, his exasperation shared by Noel. Honestly, how the Headmaster dealt with all this cattiness was beyond Noel's understanding.

Exhibit A of what happens when you don't pay attention to your children. Noel thought bitterly. They act up. 

"So," Alaric smiled at Landon. "Let's get started." 

The boy looked at Alaric in stunned silence as the Headmaster guided him through the door. 

As the two entered the foyer, Hope strode in after them, with Noel following close behind. 

"Hello, Noel." Hope acknowledged, keeping her eyes forward. 

"Hope." Noel inclined his head. "Have an eventful trip?" 

"Travelled to the middle of Georgia state in the middle of the night to help a newly-triggered wolf." the girl recounted mirthlessly. "In a church. Right in the middle of a full moon." 

"Lemme guess." Noel groaned. " Catholics ? Mistook a werewolf change for a demon or something?" 

"Yep." Hope said, popping the 'p'. "Exorcism and everything." 

Noel shook his head, resisting the urge to smile. Classic Catholics. 

"Slow down!" Alaric suddenly called out, three junior students running past him. 

Noel watched the students disappear up the stairs before his eyes turned back to Landon. 

"So what's his story?" Noel asked. 

Hope's eyes fell on Landon, her pastel-pink lips curving upwards in a smile. 

"That's Landon." she answered. "Rafael's adoptive brother." 

She looked Noel in the eye. 

" Not supernatural." 

Hope almost managed to hide her amusement, but a light grin betrayed her true feelings. 

With the way Noel and Hope walked beside each other, one could almost make the impression that the two were friends. But they would be wrong. Because much like the supernatural world itself, nothing was that simple - especially friendships. 

Hope and Noel got along. They often found themselves in each other's company. And they might even share similar worldviews. 

But they were not friends. Like a wild bear and a game hunter - similar core values and roles, but nothing personal. The Salvatore School had a funny way of bringing outcasts together.

Noel half-laughed. "A werewolf and a hipster. What a terrifying combination." 

"Be nice." Hope warned him. "Landon used to live here in Mystic Falls. We hung out a couple of times." 

Noel's eyes boggled. Hang out ? Since when does Hope Mikaelson' hang out' with someone?

Hanging out to dry , or hanging someone with a rope for ticking her off - that Noel understood. 

But Hope 'Keep Your Distance' Mikaelson hanging out with someone? What sort of twisted parallel universe was this? 

"But wait," Noel realized. "If he's not supernatural, then…" 

Hope nodded. "He's human. Yes ."

A phantom hand squeezed Noel's heart. "Then are you sure it's a good idea to bring him in here like this-"

"Relax." Hope told him. "We've just gotta get some information about Rafael out of him first." 

She looked at him smugly. 

"Want us to find out if he's single?" 

"Oh, ha-ha." Noel half-laughed. "You know I draw the line at werewolves. Just because I'm experimenting doesn't mean I'm desperate ." 

Hope shook her head wryly as Alaric looked back at them, giving Hope a knowing look. 

"So," Noel deduced, looking at Landon carefully. "Interrogation first and compulsion later?" 

"That's the plan…" Hope answered. 

The two reached the Headmaster's office, Alaric pushing through with Landon as Hope held the door open for them. 

Alaric took a seat behind his desk, the words exchanged between him and Landon fading into white noise as Noel flopped onto a small armchair. 

Swinging his legs over the left arm, Noel looked at Landon carefully, Hope's words nagging at the boy's mind. 

Interrogation first and compulsion later? That's the plan . 

Such reassuring and rational words. But why did they make Noel feel so uneasy?

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Noel  hated  being right. 

The moments after he and Hope entered Alaric's office with Landon were as the Mikaelson girl had promised; just standard, routine questions. 

Landon, though failing to leave any meaningful impression on Noel, answered the questions thoroughly and without resistance. 

All normal, routine questions. 

That is, until, Alaric got to the question that had been plaguing everyone's minds: 

Who did Rafael kill recently? 

"W-Why would you ask me that?!" 

Noel sat on the window alcove to Alaric's right, picking pieces of lint off a red pillow as Landon's jaw dropped. 

"The werewolf gene lies dormant until the carrier takes a human life," Alaric explained. He flipped open the manilla file on his desk, steepling his fingers. "If Rafael triggered his curse, it's...because he killed someone. And we  don't  accept cold-blooded killers into our program." 

Alaric spoke those last few words with an added emphasis, causing Landon to squirm in his chair. But the boy quickly regained his nerve, scowling at the headmaster as his hands balled into fists. 

"He's not a killer." he defended. 

Noel shook his head, flicking a piece of lint away. "Well, clearly, you're wrong." 

Hope glared at Noel as he met Landon's gaze, ignoring the anger burning in his olive-green eyes. 

"We might be supernatural," Noel said. "But our world still has rules. And one of them is that a werewolf can't turn unless they've killed someone." 

He leaned back against the window, the midday sun heating the back of his hoodie. 

"Saying that you're a werewolf that hasn't killed anyone is like saying you're a pregnant virgin -  very  unlikely."

Landon scowled at him. "You think this is  funny ?" 

"What Noel is  trying  to say," Alaric interrupted him. "Is that these sorts of things are consistent with a newly triggered wolf. There's no shame in it." 

Landon held his gaze with Alaric, but his eyes softened as Hope put a hand on his arm. 

Seriously, what was with her today?

"I know this is a lot to take in, right now." Hope sighed. "I've been going here since I was  seven . This is a safe place for people like Rafael. I-It's a home!" 

To some people . Noel thought bitterly. 

"But if we take him in," Alaric added. "We need to make sure that he isn't a threat." 

Landon looked down, but Noel could see the vacancy in the boy's eyes. As if he were replaying some terrible memory on a loop in his mind. 

"Look," Noel reasoned. "Just because your brother killed someone, doesn't mean that he's a bad guy. Soldiers kill people. Cops kill people. Hell, doctors and pharmacists kill people." 

The witch folded his arms. 

"... We're just trying to make sure that whatever happened wasn't premeditated." 

The glaze in Landon's eyes dissipated, the boy taking an unsteady breath as he walked to the other side of the room. 

"...His girlfriend." Landon finally admitted. "Cassie. Last month he was driving, there was a storm. He took a turn too fast." 

Noel curled a finger over his chin. Killing a loved one in a car accident.  That  was a new one.

Noel didn't interact with the werewolves as a personal rule, but thanks to the school's rumour mill and Alyssa Chang's gossip (Jed was  very  talkative during their booty calls), plenty of people knew about the packs' first kills. 

A couple of brawls gone wrong, some drunk arguments that got heated and a few more from kids snapping at their abusive parents. But nothing like what Rafael had been involved with.  Poor bastard. 

"-ou for that, Landon." Noel heard Alaric say, realising that he had zoned out of the conversation. "Hope?" 

Noel registered the look on Alaric's face; the tension in his jaw and the stoicism in his eyes. Throw in the concern on Hope's face, and it wasn't hard to guess what was happening next: 

They were cutting Landon loose. 

As if on cue, Hope took a solemn step forward, slipping her hand into Landon's. 

"... Everything's gonna be okay", she reassured him. "I promise." 

Noel rolled his eyes. Jesus Christ, was he being compelled or undergoing  brain surgery?! 

Landon looked at the three of them confusedly (something he seemed to be doing a lot of, Noel thought) until the office door opened. 

Not a moment later, a boy walked in, an African-American kid with a textured afro, white sneakers and the biggest grin Landon had ever seen. 

"Landon Kirby," Alaric introduced. "Milton Greasl-"

"MG." Noel corrected him. "This is MG." 

The boy, MG, smiled at Noel appreciatively as Alaric cleared his throat. 

"Right. I'm sorry." the headmaster apologised. "Take it from a guy named 'Alaric'. Landon, MG is my student aide and-" 

"Tick-Tock, Doc." Noel cut him off. "Can we get this show on the road?" 

"He's also a vampire." Hope added, glaring at Noel. 

"Of course he is..." Landon swallowed. "Y'know, for a school with a secret to keep, you're kind of liberal with your information." 

"New kid's got a point, Doc." Noel snorted. "Sure you don't wanna give him your social security number while you're at it?"

"That won't be necessary." Alaric said, rolling his eyes at Noel's sarcasm. "Besides, we don't intend for him to remember any of this anyway."

Landon's bushy eyebrows furrowed as MG placed a firm hand on his shoulder. 

"Forget everything you've seen or heard since last night..." 

Noel zoned out as MG began performed the compulsion on Landon, a phantom weight lifting from the witch's chest. 

Great, the sooner they compelled Landon to forget all about today, the sooner that  Noel  could too. Honestly, who would have thought some blank-faced hipster would be so much trouble-

"Are you out of your minds?!" 

Noel snapped out of his daze as Landon swatted MG's hand away, the sight of which sent a cold wave through Noel's body. 

What the  fuck  just happened?! 

But somehow, Noel already knew the answer. And judging by the panic on Hope and Alaric's faces, so did they. 

The compulsion didn't work! 

"MG, did you do it wrong?!" Hope gasped. 

MG shirked backwards as Landon glared at him. 

"N-No, I didn't 'do it wrong'!" he defended. "This is the easiest vampire trick in the book!" 

"Well, it didn't work!"  

"O-Obviously it didn't work!" 

The room quickly descended into panic as MG argued his case, the group dumbfounded by Landon's resistance. 

Noel watched in stunned silence as Hope and MG argued, assessing the situation himself. 

No. MG  had  done the compulsion correctly. He had looked Landon dead in the eye, without blinking, and spoke as clearly as could be. 

If there were any problems with the compulsion, they were from Landon's end. 

And to Noel's recollection, there was only one thing that could prevent a human from being compelled. 

Vervain . 

But as soon as Noel made that deduction, his gaze fell back onto Landon, the boy's eyes darting back and forth towards the open doorway. 

Noel's eyes flashed. Oh, no you don't!

"Ad Sonum!"  he called out. 

The spell took effect immediately, Landon's olive-green eyes rolling backwards as he flopped face-first onto the floor. 

The entire room went silent the second Landon collapsed. 

Hope's jaw dropped. "What the hell was that?" 

"Me doing damage control." Noel answered her sharply. 

Without another word, the witch pounced on Landon's unconscious form, his eyes narrowed like a hawk as he rummaged around Landon's clothes. He pulled back Landon's collar, his hoodie sleeves, his trouser legs, even hair - as if looking for something.

"What are you doing?" Alaric asked, folding his arms. 

"For jewellery," Noel answered him. "Anything that could hold vervain."

He frowned at the headmaster. 

"Which is something that  you  should have done the second you picked him up!" 

Alaric ignored him as Noel stood up, sighing. 

"No vervain accessories. Which means the vervain's internal." 

Hope sighed as she registered Noel's deduction, her auburn eyebrows creasing. 

"The gas station outside of town. The Sheriff must have re-stocked the coffee with vervain." 

Noel swore under his breath.  That goddamned Sheriff!  

"Well, it doesn't matter now." Alaric sighed. He threw open the door, glancing at MG. 

"Could you grab him, please? We gotta get him to the cellars before he wakes up!" 

MG nodded and scooped Landon up by the shoulders as Noel leaned down. 

"Alright, I'll get his legs and-" 

But Hope dove in between them, shoving a forceful hand in Noel's face. 

"You've done enough." the tribrid snapped. "We'll take it from here." 

Noel's jaw dropped as she stood up, unable to process the girl's words until she was already halfway out the door. 

"What?!" Noel exclaimed. "But all I did was knock him out!"  

But Hope ignored him, holding the door open as MG and Alaric carried Landon out. Noel cursed and stormed out after them, ignoring the students that were watching the drama unfold. 

"Well, excuse me for being the only one of us who gives a shit about the school's safety! Ugh, fuck my li-" 

The floorboards creaked behind Noel, a small form diving into an alcove behind a potted plant. 

Noel reined in his temper and peered at the plant warily, a curly-haired child staring back at him. 

"Pedro?" Noel asked. "What are you doing?" 

The child, Pedro, crept out from his hiding spot, an anxious expression on his mouse-like face. 

He looked down, fiddling with the hem of his sky-blue dress shirt. 

"Hey," Noel soothed, kneeling down. "C'mon little man, what's up?"

"...I didn't do my homework." Pedro finally said. "It was too hard, and I couldn't finish it...so I hid during class..." 

Noel fought the urge to smile. "You skipped class, huh? You little rebel."

Pedro seemed to shrink to half his size as Noel spoke, murmuring worriedly as he bowed his curly head. 

"Hey, c'mon little man," Noel reassured, patting Pedro's head. "I was just teasing. I didn't mean it." 

The witch reached for a half-inch thick textbook in Pedro's hand, the word 'FRACTIONS' scrawled across it in tasteless, purple block letters. 

"Fractions, huh?" Noel mused. "Yay..." 

The young man looked once at Pedro and then down the hallway. 

Hope, Alaric and MG were nowhere to be seen, long disappeared down the stairs with Landon. The crowd from before was dispersing and the last time he checked, that handsome-ish werewolf from earlier was still with Lizzie and Josie.

Which means he had free time. 

Without another word, Noel leaned in closer towards Pedro, wobbling the book with a sly smile on his face. 

"How about I help you out with some of these?" the witch offered. "Maths isn't my best subject but I can probably help you get the gist of this." 

He lowered his voice to a whisper. 

"And  maybe , we'll grab some of those cookies from the kitchens?" 

Pedro's eyes lit up at the mention of 'cookies', the child nodding rapidly as Noel stood up and handed him the textbook. 

"But if anyone asks why you aren't in class," Noel advised. "You tell 'em I'm taking you to the sickbay, okay?" 

Pedro nodded in agreement and packing his book away, followed Noel down the hall. 

*******

Veronica Greasley was bored. 

This had been the third meeting today. In the same, icy-cold board room, discussing the same tired old marketing and military strategies. 

"So you can see by Figure C, that our response teams are reporting to us much slower than normal..." 

A glassed young woman at the front had been droning on for the last twelve minutes, her deadpan voice sucking out Veronica's enthusiasm and that of the other board members. 

Honestly, all this monster activity in the world and they were talking about  marketing ? 

Witch schools being established in Western Europe, vampire activity in New Orleans, monster sightings in Mexico and South Africa; to say nothing of whatever the hell was going on in Georgia state. And yet  this  was how they were spending their time? 

Her father entrusted her with Triad Industries to safeguard humanity and the Malivore Pit - not sit around in a board room all day. 

But her boredom was short-lived as a loud whirring sound filled the air, the entire room shaking as a large shape crossed the windows.

A helicopter. 

The moment that realisation crossed her mind, the door opened, a security guard giving Veronica an urgent look. 

"Dr Greasley?" he inquired. "He's here. The benefactor." 

Veronica pursed her lips as the guard left, the other board members looking at her in confusion. 

He was early. 

But she ignored her suspicions, closing the manilla folder in front of her and uncrossing her legs. 

"That will be all, everyone." the woman cleared her throat. "We will conclude the meeting here and reconvene next Thursday." 

The board members rose to their feet, bowing their heads and leaving while Veronica finished her notes. 

As the board members left the room, another figure slinked in through the doorway; a gangly man in a suit with black curly hair and a snake-like smile. 

"Dr Greasley." he greeted. 

"...Agent Clarke." Veronica acknowledged him, not bothering to look him in the eye. "Has our 'guest' arrived safely?" 

"Yes." Clarke nodded. "And I'm pretty sure he's early. Without sounding too pedantic." 

Veronica sighed as she stood up, wedging the folders under her right arm. 

"So it would seem," she answered passively. "But regardless, we have important matters to discuss with him." 

Clarke's vicious smirk widened, a crude expression that made Veronica's skin crawl. 

Was he just that excited for the meeting? Or did he kick some puppies before work today? 

"Money, money, money." he hummed. "Is that what we're going to discuss, doctor?" 

The two fell into line as they left the board room; Clarke walking on Veronica's left as the woman tried to keep as much distance from him as possible. 

"Triad Industries is neither inexpensive to run nor an official branch of government, Agent Clarke." the woman chided. "It's donations from people like our benefactor that keep the lights on." 

The two came to a stop at a faded brown elevator, the doors parting open as Veronica waved a red keycard across a rusted scanner. 

She and Clarke stepped inside, his pasty skin a milky-yellow under the bright lights above them. 

"So how much is the old man paying you, anyway?" Clarke finally asked. 

"That's Mr Rokubi." Veronica corrected him. "And the amount that Mr Rokubi generously donates is classified." 

But Clarke wasn't discouraged. If Anything, Veronica's passive and secretive answers only piqued his curiosity further. 

"Is it true what they say about him? That he owns half the tech companies in Japan? That he has some members of the Diet Government in his pocket?" 

"If you have time to believe baseless rumours, Agent Clarke," Veronica sneered. "Then might I suggest you take that time and do proper research on Mr Rokubi's background?" 

The whirring of the helicopter's blades grew louder as they exited the elevator. The vehicle was a flawless ebony black, with a dark but shiny surface reminiscent of a starless night. The exterior was featureless, however, save for a white animal decal on the doorway and rudder. 

The helicopter finally landed, a fearsome  whoosh  tearing through the air as Veronica approached, with Clarke a few feet behind. 

As the blades came to a halt, two Triad guards approached the helicopter door, drawing it back as an elderly man hobbled out. 

The man was Japanese, with wrinkled, sun-kissed skin and combed back silver-white hair. He wore a simple black tuxedo, with a grey  haori  shawl draped over his shoulders. 

As he left the helicopter, the man produced a walking cane, a bandaged stick that supported his hunched, kyphotic frame. 

But despite his poor posture and age, the man wore a bright smile, grinning from ear to ear like a daruma doll. 

Mr Rokubi. 

"Remember your place, Agent Clarke." 

Clarke frowned, his beady eyes narrowing as a second man stood up inside the helicopter. 

"Oh, I will." he acquiesced. "If Rokubi's little attack dog watches his." 

Veronica watched as the other man - Rokubi's 'attack dog' - exited the helicopter. 

Like Rokubi, the second man was Japanese, but the similarities ended there. 

Whereas Rokubi was an older man with a shorter, kyphotic posture, the second man was the opposite. He was tall and youthful, no older than thirty, with a chiselled face one might consider striking, were it not so stark and emotionless. 

As he exited the helicopter, he straightened his beige suit jacket and moved to Rokubi's right side, running a hand through his slick, ebony hair. 

Exchanging some brief words, Rokubi held out his arm to the younger man, the latter leading him towards Veronica and Clarke. As they got closer, the younger of the two reached into his jacket pocket, placing a pair of vantablack sunglasses over his eyes. 

"Mr Rokubi." Veronica greeted the elder of the two. "Welcome to Triad Industries. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice." 

She bowed her head lightly, a gesture returned by Rokubi. 

"And to you, Mr Inkune." she feigned a smile. "Always a pleasure." 

The younger man, Inkune, nodded as Rokubi did but showed no delight in the gesture. 

"Dr Greasley." he acknowledged her, his voice stern and monotone. "And Mr Clarke."

Clarke narrowed his eyes. "Agent Clarke." 

"Either all." Inkune dismissed, lifting his nose. 

As Clarke stared the younger man down, Rokubi suddenly began to speak. 

His words were, unfortunately, in Japanese, but they were spoken with a particular strength and clarity - as if he were some sort of monk. 

"Mr Rokubi conveys his greetings and salutations." Inkune translated. "And also expresses his thanks for arranging this meeting with minimal fuss." 

Veronica forced a smile again, indicating to the door behind them. 

"Please inform Mr Rokubi that we are ready to conduct business as soon as-"

But Inkune shook his head, taking a light step forward. 

"I think, Dr Greasley," the man tucked his hands behind his back. "That we should allow Mr Rokubi sufficient rest before we proceed." 

He gave Rokubi a concerned look, the elder smiling at him nonchalantly. 

"Not to sound ageist, but I'm sure you can understand the effects that long-distance travel can have on someone of Mr Rokubi's age." 

Veronica looked at Rokubi and Inkune uneasily, trying to find some way to convince them to conclude their business as soon as possible. 

But the moment that she found the words, Veronica found them being forced back down her throat as Inkune glared at her - venom seething from behind his vantablack lenses. 

Her throat tightened as she held his gaze, Clarke looking on with disbelief as her body froze up.

Surely she wasn't going to let these people order her around like this? 

"...Very well." the woman caved. "Please follow us to the board room. We can bring in some refreshments for you and Mr. Rokubi." 

Inkune's cold gaze relented, the man bowing his head as Veronica and Clarke led them inside. 

******

A chill rippled through the air as the group sat down in the board room. 

Mr. Rokubi sat the chair nearest the door, directly opposite Veronica and Clarke. Inkune sat directly on Rokubi's left, watching a security guard. 

The guard was armed, his hand hovering over a holstered handgun. He watched Inkune as if he were studying some predator, looming over Veronica's shoulder like the Grim Reaper. 

A deterrent. 

"Do you have it?" Veronica finally asked.

Inkune glanced at Rokubi, the elder sipping tea from a metallic mug with a grateful smile. 

The latter inclined his head, smiling like a Laughing Buddha statue. 

Inkune nodded in return and reached down past his chair, placing his suitcase on the table.

A smile crossed Veronica's lips. 

Inkune tapped the case twice before sliding it down the table, the black leather rustling against the steel table. 

Veronica caught it with her right hand, passing it over to the guard on her left. 

"Count it." she told him. 

The guard opened up the case, his eyes glistening greedily as he beheld the contents: 

Money. Lots of it. All in neat stacks of twenty, fifty and one-hundred dollar bills. 

He wasted no time pushing the bills onto the table, counting the money as Inkune looked on with distaste. 

"Call me old-fashioned," Inkune cleared his throat. "But isn't the exchange of money built upon mutual trust?" 

"Trust isn't a luxury that I can indulge." Veronica answered him curtly. "It's a luxury that no amount of money can afford me." 

A mischievous smirk grew on Clarke's lips as he watched the exchange. 

Turning on the charm before she got the money and then completely dismissing them when she finally got it. What a contemptible woman…

But Clarke's musings on Veronica's non-existent morality were suddenly silence as the guard slammed the final stack down, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. 

"It came up short." 

Veronica's eyes narrowed into slits, her gaze wandering over to the smiling Rokubi. 

"...By how much?"

"A couple of thousand." the guard spat. 

Clarke unfolded his arms as the guard tallied the difference, watching as Veronica's brow crinkled, baring her teeth like a lioness.

"What is this?" she seethed. 

Inkune was unfazed by her response, the man leaning back in his chair as he folded his hands over his knee. 

"Apologies for the deception." he said curtly. "But I'm afraid that your payment coincided with some rather important business. The rest of your payment has been put on hold." 

"Why?" Clarke asked. 

"Because Mr. Rokubi has deemed it so." Inkune told him, his eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses. "You must understand, Dr Greasley, that withdrawing such an amount of money can attract the wrong kind of attention. That's not including the fact that we're donating it to a company that - officially speaking - doesn't exist." 

Veronica drew a deep breath, sinking into her chair as Inkune stood up. 

"I'm sure you're well aware of Mr Rokubi's status?" the man asked. "Chairman of the Rokubi Group, CEO of White Fox Technologies, Executive Board Member of more than a dozen other Japan-based groups and one of the most influential businessmen in all of Asia." 

"I am aware of that," Veronica said, tapping her fingers on the table. "Your point?" 

"Besides this, Mr. Rokubi also has numerous friends and acquaintances within the Japanese National Diet. And when one uses the term 'businessman' in conjunction with 'politician', all sorts of nasty little rumours start flitting around - like corruption.

And because of this current socio-political climate, in which people point fingers first and ask questions later - it is imperative that Mr. Rokubi's reputation is unsullied. Do you understand what I am trying to say?" 

Veronica was silent but Clarke was starting to put the pieces together. Was this why he wanted to hold this meeting in secret, so suddenly? 

Rokubi suddenly spoke, speaking directly to Veronica as if he could understand his Japanese. 

"Mr. Rokubi understands the inconvenience that this has caused." Inkune translated. "He apologises and promises that once our personal business is concluded, you will receive your owed amount in its entirety, plus interest." 

Veronica pursed her lips. "And this 'business' is to be completed when?" 

"When it is completed." Inkune told her, his voice stern.

"But our deal states that-"

"Exactly," Inkune cut her off, his tone noticeably sharper. "Your  deal . And a deal implies that any and all parties walk away with something of equal value. You receive your money and Mr. Rokubi maintains his privacy." 

He shrugged. 

"But, if you feel as though you are being mistreated, then perhaps we should rescind our deal and leave you to another benefactor-" 

Clarke stepped forward, placing a hand over his chest. 

"Now, now," he said, his smile making Inkune's skin crawl. "Let's not be hasty here. It's just that we're doing very secret work here, which means we need to be careful with who we... ally  ourselves with. Your problems become  our  problems, if you know what I mean?"

Inkune wrinkled his nose. "Quite." 

The aide folded his gloved hands over his lap again, his deadpan expression earning another chuckle from Rokubi. 

A shrill chirping sound rang out across the room, all eyes falling on Inkune's wristwatch. 

Inkune looked at his watch for a moment, acknowledging the time with an emotionless face. 

"...That concludes our business here." the pale man announced. "Mr Rokubi has another engagement he must attend." 

Veronica pursed her lips.

"Very well then." the woman acquiesced. "Please escort Mr Rokubi and his... assistant  back to their helicopter."

Inkune rose with a small bow and murmured something to Rokubi in Japanese. 

The elder nodded, sipping the rest of his tea as Inkune helped him to his feet. As Rokubi took hold of his cane, Inkune glanced at Veronica and Clarke, his eyes peering over his vantablack sunglasses. 

"Until next time." 

Neither Veronica or Clarke said anything, the two of them watching in silence as Rokubi and Inkune were led out by a uniformed guard. 

"...Hopefully, not  too  soon." Clarke sneered under his breath. 

And for once, Veronica agreed with him. 

*******

"Have a safe flight back, Mr Rokubi!" 

Rokubi beamed warmly at the Triad guard as he entered the helicopter, followed closely by Inkune. 

"That will be all, thank you." Inkune dismissed. The aide produced a pair of night-black aviator headsets, handing one to Rokubi as the guard stepped back. 

"You're clear for take-off!" he yelled over the whirring helicopter blades. "When you're ready!" 

Rokubi's pilot gave the guard a thumbs-up and pressed several buttons on his console, the helicopter lifting into the air as Inkune closed the door. 

Within moments, the helicopter was airborne. And within minutes after that, Triad Industries was practically gone from sight; a mass of concrete buildings fading into a sun-kissed horizon. 

Inkune sighed apathetically as he toggled his aviator headset, glancing at the smiling Rokubi.

"... We are out of their airspace, Master."  he said in Japanese.

And the moment Inkune spoke those words, Rokubi stopped smiling. 

The old man narrowed his eyes and rolled back his shoulders, straightening his 'kyphotic' posture. 

Cracking his neck, Rokubi sneered, his wrinkled fingers choking his cane in a sharp death-grip. 

"How much longer must I endure the company of these ingrates, Ichiro?"  he asked. The Zen-like softness of Rokubi's voice had vanished, replaced with a guttural and spiteful tone. Every word he spat out sounded as though he were fighting back bile. 

"I'm afraid that Triad remains a necessary evil, sir."  Inkune said, his employer's disgust bringing a smile to his face.  "Their operations directly interfere with the supernatural world, which allows us some respite from 'those' troubling us." 

"So long as they don't interfere with  our  operations."  Rokubi scoffed. 

The old man looked out the window of the helicopter, staring into the green expanse of forest below them. 

America . Rokubi had barely been here three days and he was already tired of it. The loud and cluttered cities, the fugacious, consumerist culture; to say nothing of the disgusting, moronic sheep that the country called 'people' - it made him sick to his stomach. 

But that barely scratched the surface of his apathy, for unbeknownst to everyone but a select few, America had spawned other things. 

The supernatural . 

Yes. The werewolves had been cursed here. The vampires had been spawned. And the witches had flourished, their twisted craft responsible for the creation of the former two. 

Mongrels, parasites and pompous, magic-wielding cockroaches.  What Rokubi wouldn't give to crush them all under his foot. 

But not now. Right now, he had only one  concern. 

"What of the search?" the elder asked, his tone noticeably less hostile. "Have you found anything?" 

"Good news and bad news, Master." Inkune answered him. The aide produced a manila folder from his briefcase, showing Rokubi three documents. 

"Our sources confirmed what we already knew," Inkune continued. "The witch fled the mainland for Okinawa, where she found passage into the United States." 

Rokubi pursed his lips. "And the bad news?" 

"The trail runs cold after that, sir. She began covering her tracks the moment she entered California and completely vanished the second she entered into North Dakota." 

A snarl rumbled in Rokubi's throat as snatched the paper from Inkune's hand. The document was a portrait photo of a woman, around her mid-twenties, with fair, ivory skin and hair that tumbled down to her shoulders in wavy, dirty-blonde curls.

"Retrace her steps in California." Rokubi ordered him. "And make doubly sure of the clues gathered by our sources. Bribe them, coerce them, threaten and torture them if you must - so long as you're certain they aren't trying to trick us." 

Inkune bowed his head. "As you command, Rokubi-sama." 

"This woman cannot elude us, Inkune. Find her, make an example of those who helped hide her..." 

He squeezed the sides of the paper, crinkling the sides to the point of tearing. 

"...And take back what she stole from us!" 

"And what of Triad Industries?" Inkune asked.

Rokubi leaned back in his chair, his hands returning to his cane.  

"As you said, Ichiro, - they are a necessary evil. They're loyal, for now, but we will be ready for their inevitable betrayal." 

Rokubi's gaze returned to the forest outside, hate burning in his eyes like a wildfire. 

"After all, the wise fox only strikes when the rabbit bears its throat..." 

Chapter Text

"Alright, little man, final question." 

Noel's words stoked a fire of determination within Pedro's eyes, the child staring at his elder intently. 

The two witches had been sitting in the kitchens for almost two hours now, mulling over some fractions work from Pedro's math class. Each correct answer earned Pedro some hearty praise and a giant cookie; generously 'donated' by the Salvatore School's pantry. 

Two fractions pages and three cookie boxes later, Pedro was well on his way to becoming a maths prodigy. 

Turns out baked goods and sweets do wonders for Maths Anxiety. 

But Noel digressed.

The witch slid three medium-sized cookies across the metal tabletop, tapping a black, polished fingernail on the open page. Of the forty practice questions they had gone through, only three remained. 

"Your move, Pedro." 

Noel smirked and folded his arms as Pedro looked at the page, his little nose scrunched and his eyes narrowed with focus.

So adorable . Noel thought warmly. 

After a moment's pause, Pedro scribbled his answer into the book, holding it up to Noel with expectant eyes: 

"3/1," Noel read aloud. "Equals 3. Correct." 

Noel acknowledged the rightmost of the three cookies. Pedro quickly snatched it up into his hands and nibbled at it like a mouse with a cube of cheese. 

"Next one." Noel instructed. 

Pedro finished the cookie and looked down at the page, again taking a moment before answering: 

"46/12," Noel read. "Becomes 23/6. And what sort of fraction are we left with?" 

"An im-popper fraction." Pedro murmured, his feet swinging underneath his stool. "That's when the number on the top is bigger than the bottom one." 

"Very good." Noel praised. "But remember, it's called an  improper  fraction, okay? Im. Prop. Er. Got it?" 

Pedro nodded affirmatively as Noel handed him the second cookie, grinning like a Cheshire Cat as Pedro ate it within two bites. 

And now, only one question remained: 

"15/6," Noel smirked. "Think you can handle it, little man?" 

" Yes !" Pedro pouted, folding his arms in a huff. 

Noel laughed under his breath as Pedro wrote his final answer: 

"15/6 becomes 2 and 3/6. Good." 

Pedro's smile gleamed brighter than the Sun, the youth reaching for the last cookie...

...But Noel drew it back, wiggling a disapproving finger. 

"...But not quite good  enough." 

Pedro raised his eyebrows, looking at Noel as if he had suffered the most unspeakable of betrayals. He glanced at the cookie, then to Noel, down at the page and then right back to Noel - his puppy-dog eyes in full-effect. 

"Hey, don't look at me like that." Noel sighed. "The answer is right, but something's missing." 

"What?" Pedro asked. 

Noel chuckled. "You're supposed to figure that out on your own,  silly . You wouldn't be learning if  I  tell you the answer." 

He tapped the equation Pedro wrote with a pencil. 

"Here's a hint," he said, circling the '3/6'. "It has something to do with this bit here." 

Pedro stared at the page for a moment more until his eyes lit up with realisation and corrected his answer. 

"15/6 = 2 3/6 = 2 1/2." 

" Much  better." Noel clapped, handing Pedro the last of the cookies. The elder took a moment to watch Pedro eat, a proud smile growing at the edge of his lips. 

It made him happy to see Pedro like this, to see him confident and proud of his ability. He had known Pedro since the boy's first day at the Salvatore School. That friendly but intimidated child, too frightened of his own shadow to even contemplate something as  genuinely  frightening as magic. 

But now, with the support of the Salvatore School staff, his peers (and in no small part to Noel's guidance), Pedro had become a standout student amongst the junior students. 

Every smile Pedro smiled, every kid that he befriended and every teacher he amazed, always made Noel wonder, what if things had been as easy for him? 

If he hadn't been born with fucked up magic. 

If he hadn't been exiled from the coven. 

If he hadn't been dumped at the school like a reeking sack of trash. 

Noel grit his teeth. 

...If he could control his magic. If the other students weren't scared of him. If his arms weren't covered in scars and burns. 

Noel drew a sharp breath inward. 

If he wasn't that 'skinny scarred kid'. If he had someone looking out for him that wasn't some teacher paid to give a damn about his problems. If Alyssa didn't make it her mission to turn the coven against him. If Jed and his pack didn't laugh and kick the shit out of him every time they met in the halls. If he had a friend in the world that wasn't a co-dependent siphoner. If he- 

Noel stopped. He relaxed his jaw and wound up shoulders, releasing a shaky breath. 

...No. That was the past. Something that was out of Noel's hands. 

He couldn't just sit by and wallow, to wear his shame and past like some heavy, stifling cloak while other kids were being brought here. 

Noel couldn't teach them magic, and he certainly couldn't shield them from the horrors of the supernatural community. But he would do his absolute damnedest to make sure that every one of them felt welcome and looked after. That they had a friend watching out for them, an elder to look to and, if need be, a shoulder to cry on. 

Luxuries that Noel was never afforded when he was Pedro's age. 

"...oel?" 

Noel's broody thoughts came to a crashing halt as Pedro called out to him, the child looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

"...Yeah, Pedro?" Noel asked, regaining his composure. 

"It's all done." Pedro pointed at his homework. 

"Oh...right, yeah." Noel cleared his throat. "Are you sure that's everything? Do you need to work on any other subjects you aren't sure about?"  

Pedro shook his head. "No, that's all the homework the teacher gave us." 

He gave Noel a toothy smile as he finished his cookie, licking the smudged bits of chocolate chip off his fingertips. 

"You're a  wayyy  better at teaching than he is. And the other witches too." 

Noel half-laughed as he packed up Pedro's textbook and worksheets. "You went to the other members of the coven for help?" 

"Yeah, but they weren't very nice to me." Pedro frowned, looking down as he swung his feet. "They were too busy and kept saying that 'I should be hanging out with the other kids'..." 

Noel rolled his eyes. Typical Salvatore Witches... 

"I asked Alyssa 'cos she's super, duper smart and all, but she said she was 'too busy with her 'perfemm'."

"Perfume." Noel corrected him. 

"And then I asked Wade, but he didn't know much about fractions. Then Cain, then Druscilla, Penelope and Lizzie-" 

"Wait," Noel exclaimed. "You really asked Lizzie for help?" 

Pedro nodded. "Yeah, but she said-" 

"Don't ever listen to what Lizzie says, man." Noel sighed. "And  never  ask her to do anything for you. Unless it'll benefit  her  in some way, she won't do it." 

Noel sighed, folding the last of the worksheets away.

"Trust me, Pedro, she can be a real bit-"

But Noel stopped himself before he could finish, reconsidering his words as Pedro stared at him innocently and intently. 

"Uhhh," the witch stammered. "A...um..bi...big...big...meanie! Yeah, she can be a real big meanie!" 

Noel mentally chastised himself for saying something so childish, a sentiment shared by Pedro, who looked at him with a frown.

"...She's not  that  mean." Pedro defended, angling his head. 

Noel couldn't help but shake his head. Honestly, Pedro was too kind for his own good. 

The witch tucked Pedro's books away into the boy's brown leather school-bag when suddenly, a folded piece of paper slipped from the textbook pages and onto the floor.

Huh? 

Noel hopped off his seat to pick it up. It was a tri-folded sheet of plain paper, covered from top to bottom in neat, cursive writing.

Paper-clipped to the very top of the letter was a crinkled photograph; of a beautiful, curly-haired woman standing on a beach in a sundress with a small child in her arms: 

'Pedro and Mama ' the caption read.  '2025.' 

Noel couldn't help but smile. "Is this your mom?"

Pedro nodded bashfully, grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat.

"...Yeah. She and Daddy live really , really  far away but she always sends me letters 'n pictures." 

"That's nice of her," Noel smirked. His eyes wandered back to the photo, falling upon Pedro's mother. 

There was something attractive about the picture, something that drew Noel in. Not Pedro's mother  per se  (Noel wouldn't dishonour Pedro like that) but the  feeling  about her. The joy on her face, that bright, guileless smile and the gentle strength radiating from her as she held the infant Pedro in her slender, sun-kissed arms. 

So much emotion. Warmth. Happiness.  Love . Was this how mothers felt around their children? 

"Do you get letters from your mama too, Noel?" 

Pedro's words caught Noel off-guard and struck like a hot blade to the elder's heart. 

"...No, little man." Noel murmured. "Not me." 

Noel ignored Pedro's confused expression and looked back to the photo, staring at the smiling woman a moment more. But the longer he looked, the sooner Noel felt the warmth in his heart dissipate; replaced by a nauseating, twisted knot in his stomach. 

Within moments, his eyes were overcome with a stinging sensation and tears threatened to fall; an emotional shift that Noel tried (and failed) to hide.

"Are you okay, Noel?" Pedro asked, shirking back in his chair. 

Noel snapped out of his daze. 

"Um, y-yeah." the witch lied, clearing his throat. "Just...um...hayfever, allergies and stuff." 

Pedro opened his mouth to ask another question, but Noel quickly stood up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"You're very lucky to get letters like this, Pedro. Make sure you look after them, okay?" 

Noel folded the photo back up within the letter and slid it back into Pedro's textbook, touselling the boy's curly hair. 

"C'mon," he encouraged. "Let's get you outta here, huh?" 

Pedro nodded emphatically as he hopped off his stool, putting on his backpack as he followed Noel outside. The two witches left the kitchens and crossed the corridors into the hallway, exchanging little conversation until they reached the stairwell to the Junior Student Dorms: 

"Now, remember the story we agreed on," Noel began, stopping Pedro as they arrived at the stairs. "What was the reason that you skipped class?" 

"...Because I wasn't feeling well." Pedro answered, fiddling with a loose, yellow thread on his shirt. 

"Right." Noel nodded. "And who will vouch for you?" 

"You will," Pedro said. "Because you saw me being sick near Dr Saltzman's office." 

"... And ?" 

"And I hafta fake a tummy ache to make them think I'm telling the truth." 

"...Which shouldn't be too hard with all those cookies you ate." Noel chuckled. "You okay from here?" 

Pedro nodded reluctantly, his eyes glazed over with unease. 

Noel didn't like putting Pedro in this position either. But regardless of the reasons and who he was with, the fact remained that Pedro had skipped class; something no amount of finished fractions work would ever overturn. 

Jesus, even  supernatural  school teachers were hardasses... 

"If you run into any more problems," Noel smiled. "Homework or otherwise, you come find me, and I'll help you out, okay?" 

Pedro beamed, the anxiety on his face melting away as he threw his arms around Noel's waist - pulling the witch into an embarrassed hug. 

"Okay, okay," Noel laughed, pulling himself away. "Don't get all emotional on me..." 

Looking away, Pedro adjusted his backpack and ran up the stairs, disappearing in a chorale of footfalls and childish laughter. 

And the second Pedro was out of sight, Noel slumped forward against the bannister, heaving a heavy sigh. 

The witch stood there for a moment, lightly banging his head against the backs of his hands. 

What the hell was he doing? What was he trying to achieve, an outcast like him trying to give Pedro life advice? To teach him about being a good student and son?

Pedro's question rung hauntingly in his mind, like church bells. 

Do you get letters from your mama too, Noel?

Of course not.  Noel answered the question coldly in his mind. 

He finally lifted his head, marching down the hall and forcing a scowl as he wiped his damp eyelids. 

... Not unless they start sending letters from the afterlife. 

******

The dry heat of the fireplace rolled over Rokubi in waves of marigold light, the elder sinking into his high-backed ebony chair. 

It had been almost half a day since his meeting with Dr Greasley at Triad Industries. The arrangement had cost him millions of dollars; an agreeable loss were it not for the hours of patience taken along with it. 

Rokubi grumbled under his breath, nursing a glass of lukewarm sake against the folds of his dressing gown. 

But sooner or later, the tiresome day must kowtow to the quiet respite of the night. And a secluded manor in the middle of the New York State Forest was as 'quiet' as it could get. 

"<Any more news, Ichiro?>"  Rokubi asked the man at his side. 

"<No further news, Rokubi-sama>,"  Inkune answered. He stood firmly by Rokubi's chair, the man's lean frame casting a long shadow over the ornate Shinto artworks adorning the stone walls around them. "< So far, the only progress we have been able to make is ascertaining that our quarry is  not  within any northern states. In addition to the other dead-ends, we have now eliminated the states of Minnesota, South Dakota, Illinois and Wisconsin from our lists>." 

Rokubi leaned back into his chair as a low cracking sound reverberated in the air. Inkune couldn't tell if the sound came from master's chair or his knuckles tightening on his cane. 

"<...Send for the witch>."  the old man ordered. 

Inkune's frame stiffened. 

"<Rokubi-sama,"  he cleared his throat.  "It was a long journey to this manor from Georgia state. And it has been a long day. Perhaps it would be best if you retired for the eve- >."

"<I am  old , Ichiro."  Rokubi spat.  "<Not  decrepit.  Bring the witch in here,  now >." 

Inkune drew a sharp breath and faced the study entryway. " <Enter!>" 

The study doors parted immediately, a balding man in a snowy-white yukata hurrying in. 

"<R-Rokubi-sama>."  the man bowed, patting away the sweat from his rosy cheeks.  "<What is it that you need?>" 

"<Commence the ritual>,"  Rokubi ordered.  "Summon *them* here>." 

The witch raised his head. Enough that Inkune noticed the gesture but not so much that their eyes met. "<H-How many of them, my Lord?>" 

"<All of them>."  Rokubi snarled.  "<Every single one in this wretched country. We must regroup and change our tactics if we are to find our quarry>." 

The witch swallowed, bowing his head anxiously. Averting his eyes, the man hurried towards the fireplace, a hearth of black marble inlaid with gold  kintsugi  and took down a single mask from the mantel. 

Studying the mask closely, the witch reached into the sleeve of his yukata and produced a gold, ceremonial knife. 

"<With your permission, Rokubi-sama?>" 

Rokubi pursed his lips. Putting down his glass of  sake , the old man rolled back the sleeve of his dressing-gown, baring his naked forearm to the witch. 

The witch took a step forward, his gilded blade gleaming in the light. But Inkune moved  with  him, catching the witch's sleeve with a stern grip. 

"<...Not too much>."  the aide warned. 

The witch nodded as he drew the blade down Rokubi's arm, the crimson blood almost black against Rokubi's fair skin. Gathering enough blood to coat the edge of the blade, the witch set the mask on the floor and held the knife to his chest. 

"... 六美卿の血であなたを召喚します "  he incanted, flicking the knife blade towards the mask. 

The spell took effect immediately. 

The second that the droplets of blood met the floor, the mask's vacant eyes lit up; the floorboards rattling restlessly.  

"...六美卿の血であ." the witch continued, flicking more blood onto the mask. "...なたを召喚します." 

By now, the whole manor was shaking; every floorboard, decorative wall and wooden panel heaving and groaning in all directions. 

But despite the chaos, Rokubi sat firmly in his chair, his eyes  oozing  with spite as he perused the folder Inkune gave him on the helicopter. 

"<We will find her, Rokubi-sama>."  Inkune encouraged.  "<It is only a matter of time before she suffers for her transgressions>." 

"<'Suffers', Ichiro?>"  Rokubi sneered.  <"Oh no, she will  beg  for suffering...>." 

The older man stood up, ignoring the witch's chants and the quaking walls around him as he tossed the manila folder into the fire but kept a grip on the photograph within it. 

The 'woman'. The image of her soft, fair-skinned face and dirty-blonde curls burned Rokubi's eyes as if the elder were staring into the face of the sun. 

And it  sickened  him. 

"<I  will  find her, Ichiro. Even if I have to raze the entire country to do it...>" 

Rokubi closed his fist, crumpling the photo between his wrinkled fingers. 

"<...And when I do, I will rip that traitorous whore limb from bloody limb..!"> 

And without another word, he tossed the photo into the fire. 

******

Noel exhaled loudly as he downed the contents of his red plastic cup, shutting his eyes as he let the alcohol buzz through his body. 

The Old Mill night party had been going for almost three hours, but the revelry and mirth were still going strong. Noel was no anthropologist, but if tonight was any indication, it seemed like the only way to make the school factions get along was by getting them  drunk. 

"Sure you don't wanna slow down, brah?" someone to Noel's left asked. "I mean,  damn , that's your third drink in the last  hour ." 

Noel turned on the wood log to see Kaleb Hawkins beside him; the vampire looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a smug smile. 

"...And it's not gonna be my last." Noel chuckled. " Loooong  day." 

Kaleb shook his head with a wry smile, the other dozen vampires around the fire laughing with him. 

"Hey N, we're not judging here." another vampire (a  handsome  one at that, Noel thought) spoke up. "Just sayin' that you take a spill and cut yourself..." 

His voice trailed off as he indicated to the other vampires. "Y'know..." 

But Noel shrugged off the boy's warning, reaching into an ice bucket at the end of the log. 

"Calm down, Marc," the youth snickered. "I'm not that drunk. Yet." 

The other vampire - Marc - smiled, his bleached buzzcut yellow under the firelight. 

"Besides..." Noel smirked, running a finger down Marc's lips. "It's not like you haven't given me a good  necking  before, is it?" 

Marc's smile disappeared, the vampire blushing furiously as Noel sat back down on the wood log beside Kaleb; who was barely containing his laughter. 

Hanging out with the vampires wasn't like involving yourself with the other Salvatore School factions. The werewolves were too xenophobic and wary of any non-wolves and being a part of the covens meant walking a line that Noel couldn't toe (i.e. his little 'display' in magic class yesterday). 

But the vampires weren't beholden to such prejudices. They accepted one another freely, without hostility and held no misgivings about any vampires being 'different' from the others. 

'Vamps Before Tramps' as Kaleb was fond of saying.

"No, like  Twilight  ruined all vampire mythos." 

A smile crossed Noel's lips as he recognised a familiar voice near the fire pit. 

"Okay, y'all want reality," MG extolled to two other vampires. "Y'all got to go old-school. Okay, my man Blade... He is the  GOAT . His crazy mom was all,  "You wouldn't kill me."  And then, he's all,  "I must release you." ." 

Noel couldn't help but laugh as MG moved his hands wildly in the air, as if swashbuckling with some invisible sword.

"...And he's... bam,  stab!  Dude kills his crazy-ass mom!" 

The boy paused. 

"...But...uh...I'm not saying that y'all should kill your mom, 'cause t-that's messed up."

"I've always been more of an  Underworld  guy myself..." Noel spoke up, pressing his bottle to his lips. 

A chorus of ' oohs ' erupted from the vampire crowd as MG looked at Noel, flabbergasted. 

" U-Underworld ?" he asked incredulously. "Bro,  really ? But Blade's the OG!  Wesley. Goddamn. Snipes!"

Noel's smile grew. "Kate. Beckinsale." he challenged. "...Kicking ass in a tight, wet leather  bodysuit ." 

More laughter from the vampires. And a few approving wolf whistles. 

But MG wasn't convinced, the vampire pointing at Noel accusingly. 

"Man, y'all are  sacrilegious  as  hell! " he exclaimed. "No-one's better than my man, Wesley!" 

And without another word, he stormed off into the crowd, mumbling and grumbling to himself all the while. 

"Damn, bro..." Kaleb snickered. "You just  had  to go after poor old Wesley like that, didn't ya?" 

Noel felt a pang of guilt as he watched MG leave, but his feelings were forgotten the moment his eyes fell on another   face in the crowd; a smiling face with a head of rich, auburn hair. 

Josie. 

Noel tensed up, like a bird about to take flight, edging himself off the wood log as Josie walked by him. 

"O-One sec, guys!" Noel excused himself. "I'll be right back!" 

The witch rushed over to Josie, ignoring the wolf whistles and teasing laughter from the vampires. 

"Josie!"

The Saltzman witch turned around, her eyes widening as Noel approached her. 

"N-Noel," she stammered. "I, uh, I'm sorry I didn't see you there..." 

Noel stopped mere feet from her, readying a list of pre-considered topics in his mind. But the moment his eyes met hers, Noel's throat suddenly tightened, his mouth going dry as if filled with sand. 

"...Is everything okay?" Josie asked. 

"I just...uh..." Noel took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry...about this morning. I didn't mean to snap at you, I was just in a bad mood cos Lizzie woke me up and-"

"It's  okay , Noel." Josie cut him off, her smile brighter than the fire behind them. "I understand. I know Lizzie can be a bit much sometimes, but she means well. Honest." 

Noel wrinkled his nose. "...If you say so..." 

Honestly, the witch wondered, how could she keep defending Lizzie's selfishness like this? 

A silence fell between them, the momentum of their conversation falling like a puppet with cut strings. Not only that, but Noel could see Josie's eyes darting between him and the ground, her hands opening and closing shut at her sides. 

"...I meant what I said earlier today," she told him. "That you can talk to me if things...if things get rough, y'know?" 

The smile growing on Noel's face disappeared, the witch looking down.

"Talking isn't gonna help me, Jo." the boy lamented. "And it certainly isn't gonna stop everyone from thinking I'm a headcase. Even  Dorian and your dad look  at me like I'm a freak..." 

"Hey..." Josie whispered. She took another step forward and put a hand on Noel's arm. "I'm sure he understands.  Both  of them." 

Noel couldn't help but feel a strange flutter from Josie's touch; her hand warm and comforting, yet awkward and alien all at once. 

Her face caught the firelight exquisitely, the sun-kissed skin of her face glowing a soft bronze. 

"...Yeah." Noel scoffed, forcing himself to look away. "I'm sure some bookworm and middle-aged, vampire-hunting human know  all about  messed up witch problems..." 

Josie pursed her lips, letting her hand drop from Noel's arm; the latter's heart sinking  with  it. 

"...I'm sorry, Jo." Noel apologised again. "I know you're just trying to help but-urgh!" 

A burning pain shot up Noel's right arm; coming and going like a bolt of lightning. 

Josie's eyes widened in alarm. "Are you okay?" 

"Y-Yeah..." Noel winced, rubbing the sleeve of his shirt. The pain was only momentary, but it had struck sharply and suddenly enough for Noel to spill his drink everywhere. 

What was that; a stray ember from the fire or something? The burn marks on his forearms and shoulders flared up once every few months or years but  never  something that inten-AGH! 

The pain struck again, only this time in Noel's chest, just below and to the right of his collarbone. 

And it stayed. 

"AGGGH!" Noel exclaimed, pressing his hands to his chest. 

" Noel!"  Josie cried out, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Noel, what's happening-?!" 

Josie's cries caught the attention of the vampires, Kaleb and Marc watching the ordeal with fearful eyes. 

"Yo, Noel!" Kaleb called out, vamp-speeding over. "What's going-"

"STAY BACK!" Noel hissed through gritted teeth. "It's-AGH!!" 

Another  wave of pain shot up Noel's right leg, forcing the boy to the ground in a fit of agony. The second his body hit the forest floor, the pain had reached his entire body; agony building to a horrific crescendo within every nerve and organ of his torso. 

All eyes were on him now; every student in the Old Mill watching as Noel spasmed and sobbed with pain on the dirt of the forest floor. 

"What's wrong with Nolan?" one of the students asked. 

"Hey!" another called out. "Someone call somebody! Nolan's spazzin' out on the ground!" 

"Jesus, what's wrong with the defective  this  time?" 

That last sentence bit into Noel's heart, the boy scowling as he looked dead into the crowd. 

" FUCK OFF! " He roared. 

A burst of energy exploded from Noel's body; a torrent of magic that tore bark from the trees, kicked up dust from the ground, shattered beer bottles and sent flames from the fire pit bursting up into the sky like lightning. 

The students screamed as the flames reached up into the sky, the trees and branches catching fire within seconds; right as another burst of energy went off. 

Josie screamed as she was knocked off her feet, but was saved just in time by Marc's vampire speed. 

But the same couldn't be said for the other students; the magic waves blowing everyone off their feet and into the air like a hurricane. Some landed more than twenty feet away, straight into trees and the old timber walls of the Mill. It was a miracle that no-one had fallen into the fire pits around the area. 

It was like an event straight out of Revelations; terror, fire, brimstone and chaos raging in all directions, with Noel in the centre of it. 

As if the pain weren't enough, bright circles began to appear in the lower corners of Noel's eyes - like flares in a camera lens. 

"Ugh...Jo, I'm...I'm starting to see spots..!" 

But Josie, barely up on her feet in Marc's arms, shook her head - a reaction shared by those closest to her. 

"You're not seeing spots, bro!" Kaleb gasped, his dark eyes wide with terror. 

Noel winced, a loud ringing in his ears. " What?! "

"Noel!" Josie screamed. "...Your birthmark!" 

And at last, Noel found the source of his agony: 

His birthmark was  glowing. 

The  tomoe -shaped mark was barely recognisable under the blinding light bursting from it; every vein and artery in Noel's upper torso lit up like the Sun. 

And as the light got brighter, the pain got worse - to the point where Noel's head began to swirl and his whole body went numb...

"Noel!" 

...and he collapsed onto the ground, the pain swallowing him. 

Noel felt the dirt on his face for a moment, skirting the edge of reality and blackness until a strange voice rang in his mind: 

"彼はあなたを召喚します. 

選ばれた十三人が再会します.

そして彼の刃の下で

不自然な世界は滅びます." 

"...What?" Noel mumbled, his lips brushing the dirt. "...I...I can't...understand you..." 

"He summons you," the voice repeated in English, soft and serene as the darkness it echoed from. "The Chosen Thirteen will be reunited. And under his blade, the supernatural world will  perish ..." 

And then the voice spoke no more. 

Chapter Text

SALVATORE BOARDING SCHOOL - 9 YEARS AGO

Cough. Cough.

Nolan squirmed under his heavy bedsheets, his tiny frame shivering as the strange woman unfurled a cooling patch.

"Hey," the woman soothed, her brunette hair hanging down in a short bob. "C'mon, Nolan. You need to get some rest."

But Nolan shook his head, bunching up his bedsheets under his chin.

The woman sighed. She was a lithe woman of medium-height, her olive-skin contrasting with her sky-blue nurse scrubs and white cardigan jacket. As she moved away from Nolan, a hospital pass dangling from her waist caught Nolan's eye.

'ELENA GILBERT,' it read. 'Trainee Nurse - Whitmore Hospital.'

Nolan skirted the edge of sleep once more, his eyelids heavy and his vision swirling as if stuck inside a hamster wheel.

Until the door opened.

Alaric appeared in the doorway, his breathing ragged as sweat patches pooled on his red polo shirt. As he moved inside, a tiny figure followed in after him, quiet and shy as a church mouse as it clung to Alaric's jeans.

...Josie?

"Elena." Alaric breathed, either out of exhaustion or surprise. "I came as soon as I could. What happened?"

Elena tucked her hands into her back pockets, shaking her head. "I don't know, Ric. Jeremy and your friend Dorian called me, saying that they and a group of witch kids saw Nolan have a fit."

Alaric knelt down beside Noel, looking at the boy as if he were some strange artefact.

Nolan's shivering had subsided, but the boy was feverish and barely awake - heat rolling off his forehead as if it were a radiator.

A fit? But that didn't make any sense! Alaric might have only known Nolan for a year or so, but he had never had anything like this happen.

"D-Do you know what caused it?" Alaric asked.

"I don't know." Elena shook her head. "From what Jeremy and Dorian told me and his symptoms, I think I can rule out seizures and epilepsy. And there's nothing in Nolan's school files that says he has a pre-existing condition."

Elena drew a sharp, uneasy breath.

"But..."

Alaric raised an eyebrow. "But?"

Elena urged him over to the other side of Nolan's room with a subtle jerk of her head. As the two adults stood closer, Alaric took in the bareness of Nolan's room.

Thin layers of dust were forming on the window panes near the back wall, casting sunbeams over two featureless walls and an empty, four-tiered bookshelf. Were it not for the matted cream rug on the floor, or the tawny-brown end-table at Nolan's bedside, one would assume that the room hadn't been lived in at all.

Alaric held in a sigh. Clearly Nolan wasn't adjusting well...

As he turned back to Elena, Josie shuffled over to Nolan's side, peering at him with worried eyes. She smoothed down her polka-dotted dress and knelt at Nolan's side, slipping her hand into his.

"Noel?" she asked, her little voice laden with worry.

As she said that name, Nolan's eyes fluttered open, his hand squeezing Josie's.

"...It hurts, Jojo." he whimpered, his breathing ragged. "Everything hurts..."

"...Jeremy and Dorian might not have described anything like a seizure," Elena continued, watching the distracted Nolan. "But what they described didn't sound normal either."

"What do you mean?" Alaric asked, folding his arms.

"I mean," Elena sighed. "That they told me, that when Nolan collapsed, he knocked out three other kids and set fire to the flower gardens. As he lost consciousness."

The breath Alaric had been holding in finally released itself, the man stealing a glance at Nolan and Josie.

"I can treat 'normal' outbursts, Ric." Elena told him. "Fits, seizures, strokes, but magic? I don't even know where to begin with that."

"It's okay, Elena." Alaric reassured her. "You've done more than enough already. I mean, I'm sure we can get an idea of this from someone. Maybe if we can get a hold of Bonnie-"

But at the mention of 'Bonnie', Elena tensed up, the young woman looking at the floor dejectedly.

"...I don't think Bonnie's gonna be an option, Ric."

Alaric's shoulders sagged as Elena folded her arms, tapping her foot on the wood floor.

"After...after everything that happened with Enzo...with Stefan and all that stuff before, she hasn't been receptive. It's like she's locked us out. I haven't even heard from her since she left for overseas last year."

Alaric nodded dejectedly. Of course, after all the stuff that Bonnie had endured, it was only a matter of time before she hit her limit.

Elena sighed again. "I'm only a nurse, right now, but I can still clear some things for Nolan. I can get him some X-rays, MRIs and maybe some blood tests, just to make sure the fit wasn't caused by something else. And maybe I can get a doctor to prescribe him something to help him sleep?"

Alaric shook his head, watching Nolan with a wide smile. "I don't think that'll be necessary..."

Elena followed her friends line of sight, her eyes widening at the sight before her:

Nolan and Josie were side by side together, the latter sitting on the floor with her head resting on the edge of Nolan's bedpost - the both of them sound asleep.

...And their hands still interlocked.

PRESENT DAY

"AGH!"

Noel shot upright in his bed, panic surging through his body like lightning as his heart pounded like a jackhammer.

To his left, he heard a surprised gasp, the sound of a magazine falling to the floor as a brunette figure cursed under her breath.

"...Pen-Penelope?!" Noel gasped.

"Jesus!" Penelope exclaimed. "Just scare me to death, why don't you?"

The witch scoffed under her breath, picking up the magazine she dropped onto the floor.

Noel laid back down, groaning as he wiped his hands over his face. "What the hell happened..?"

"You had another one of your 'fits'," Penelope told him curtly. "In the middle of the Old Mill semester party. In front of pretty much everyone."

Penelope said those last words with a light titter, bringing a scowl to Noel's sweat-stained face.

Great, another breakdown. And only a day after the last one. If these kept up, then Dr Saltzman was going to lock him up in a transitional cellar.

"...How did I get up here?" Noel asked, forcing down his ire.

"Marc and Kaleb carried you up here," Penelope answered him, not, asking her eyes off the magazine page she was reading. "Well, mostly Marc - like full bridal style from the Mill. It would've been kinda cute if you hadn't, you know, had a fit."

At the mention of Marc's name, a small smile crept across Noel's lips. Well, 'cute' was definitely a word that Noel would associate with Marc.

Note to self, Noel thought. Give Marc the biggest thank you kiss the boy has ever been given...

"Dr Saltzman has been busy with some stuff," Penelope continued. "But Josie and MG have come to check on you over the last few days."

Noel's blood ran cold. Days?!

"I've been here too, BTW," Penelope chided, finally putting down the magazine. "So you can wipe off that shocked look on your face-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Noel cut her off, shoving his hand in her face. "Back the fuck up, Penn! What do you mean days? How long have I been out?!"

"Ooohh," Penelope sucked her pearly white teeth and glanced at her naked wrist, where a watch would be. "About two days."

Noel's eyes boggled. "T-Two days?!"

He kicked off his navy-blue bedsheets, his eyes darting back and forth in a panic as he pulled himself up.

"Two frickin' days?! I gotta go see Dr Saltzman, 'cos he's gonna be- AGH!"

A sharp burning pain shot up Noel's body, the agony paralyzing and rooting him to the bed.

"Ooh, yeah." Penelope winced with a slight chuckle. "I probably should have led with that..."

"Agh...Led with what?" Noel groaned, the words passing through his throat like kidney stones. The pain had subsided somewhat but lingered in Noel's chest and upper limbs.

"Agh, with what?" Noel hissed. The pain had subsided in Noel's legs but persisted in his upper chest and arms, as if someone were setting fireworks off in his nerves. Even talking felt like passing kidney stones.

Forcing the pain back as best he could, Noel reached for a glass tumbler of water on his bedside table.

"Dunno the details," Penelope shrugged. "But there was a butt-ton of magic running through you after your little fit in the grove. Emma said you'd be feeling some 'reaction' when you got up. If you survived..."

Noel's fingers trembled as he brought the tumbler to his lips. The water was tepid and had a 'furry' taste - no doubt a few hours old. But to Noel's chapped and cottonmouth lips, the water may as well have been a divine blessing.

He downed the contents in one gulp, almost dropping the glass as he wiped his mouth.

"...There was doubt that I'd live?" he finally asked.

"Nah, that was just me." Penelope smiled devilishly. "You started sweating and mumbling in your sleep yesterday, then you just stopped. I was about to call 'Time of Death' but I stuck around."

Noel rolled his eyes. "Your altruism is boundless. Truly."

"Yeah, but my patience isn't." she sighed, dumping her magazine on Noel's end table. "So if you're okay..?"

Noel waved his hands dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can go if you want, thanks."

But as Noel waved Penelope away, an additional question popped up in his mind, one regarding his blue flannel pyjamas.

Ergo, the clothes he did not collapse in.

Noel's eyes widened. "W-Wait! Who changed my clo-"

But as he locked eyes with Penelope, he already had his answer; the latter winking mischievously as she opened the door.

"You're welcome." she mouthed.

And with a smug, pucker of her lips, she was gone.

Noel groaned and slumped back into his pillow, the burning pain lingering in his arms. A moment passed and then he let out another groan - perhaps the loudest, longest one he had ever made.

"Great," he grumbled to himself. "First I have a giant fit in front of the whole school, then Penelope Park sees me naked..."

The phrase 'fuck my life' lingered on Noel's tongue momentarily before the boy urged it back down his throat.

Don't want to overuse it. Noel thought sourly.

*******

A sigh escaped Noel's mouth as he closed his dorm room door, fiddling with the drawstrings of his navy-blue Salvatore hoodie.

It was almost 10 o'clock, which meant that most of the students would be finishing with breakfast in the Great Hall - which would allow Noel to eat in peace. For now, all the boy wanted was to keep to himself, avoid anyone else he slighted in the grove the other night and above all, not talk to anyone-

"Noel, we need to talk."

Noel stopped dead in his tracks, a sigh escaped his mouth. The witch wondered who his visitor could be, but the voice of the school headmaster was unmistakable:

"Really not a good time, Doc." Noel groaned.

Alaric half-laughed, though it sounded more like a scoff. "Well, looks like your time unconscious hasn't dulled your attitude."

Rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling, Noel thrust his hands into his hoodie pocket and turned on his heels, his gaze half-dead as he took in the sight of Alaric Saltzman.

The tall and muscular form, check. That ridiculous combed-over hair, check. That aura of patriarchal, self-righteousness, check, double and triple check.

But the crossbow slung over his shoulder and black duffle bag. Well, those were new...

"...It's about Landon Kirby." Alaric sighed. "I'm gonna need your help."

Landon Kirby. The name made Noel's teeth itch, but that was nothing compared to the red-hot anger rising in his throat; the nightmarish realization in the back of his head.

"...What did you do, Ric?"

******

"Told you we didn't need that sway bar."

A weary sigh escaped Alaric's mouth as Noel stepped out of the jeep - Hope and Raf following out after him.

Noel had called it. He had called it from moment one and no-one had listened to him.

Landon Kirby, that 'harmless' new human kid, had not only lied about being compelled but he had also stolen a knife from the Memorial Library.

A knife that had been used to chargrill about twenty innocent people - and god knows who else.

"I should have knocked that pube-haired prick flat on his ass the second you tried to bring him into the school gate." Noel seethed.

"So you've said three times since we left the school grounds." Alaric grit his teeth. "Can we not do this now?"

"Well, considering we're going after a slimy little human with a fire-spitting knife, I'm not sure we'll get the opportunity later." Noel chided. "What the hell were you thinking letting that guy in the school?!"

"We needed to find out about Raf's past." Hope sighed, pushing back a loose lock of hair.

"Then why not ask Raf?" Noel folded his arms, giving Raf the side-eye. "Might give him something to do besides vouch for thieves and rip cars apart."

Raf snarled at him. "You really want to do this now?"

Noel shrugged off Raf's threat. "Ooh, scary. Good to see you've got that chest-beating shit down already."

Noel turned his back to face the line of trees before them, ignoring Raf's frown.

Yeah, new wolf breaks a sway bar and it's okay. But Noel tries to take the car out for his weekly driving lesson and he gets scolded.

Seriously, Noel thought. Fuck werewolves.

"You're not coming?" Hope asked, putting a hand on her left hip.

Alaric shook his head as he smoothed a paper map over the car hood, tapping his fingers on it impatiently.

"No, I'm going to tell Sheriff Donovan where we are, just so he can make sure no-one else comes up this way."

He nodded his head towards the forest.

"We don't know what Landon's capable of with that dagger. For all we know, a burned up bus is just the tip of the iceberg. Last thing we need is some deputies or Townies getting caught in the crossfire."

Noel saw Raf's fists ball up in the corner of his eye.

"He's not a killer!" the wolf seethed. "He didn't do anything-"

"Yeah, yeah," Hope groaned, nudging the wolf towards the break in the trees. "Less defending, more walking."

******

The woods outside Mystic Falls always had a strange vibrance to them this time of year. The soil seemed healthier, the ground easily treaded and teeming with abundance. The air was so much crisper and cleaner but without that winter morning chill. And the leaves and trees felt so alive; the jade-green leaves gleaming in the sunlight as if they were little stained glass windows.

Noel didn't know if this was just the natural beauty of the Virginians forests or if Mystic Falls' history with magic had somehow 'beautified' the land. But there was one thing he did know:

Raf was ruining it.

"He was there for me on the worst day of my life. After my girlfriend died, he's the only thing that kept me going."

Noel rolled his eyes as he followed Raf, exchanging glares with Hope. They had been trudging through the forests for almost twelve minutes now, searching for any sign of Landon Kirby.

This forest. Noel thought. It's like looking for a duplicitous needle in a very green haystack.

"Is he your foster brother or your boyfriend?" Noel groaned.

Hope bit her lip and looked away, but Noel could see the ghost of a smile on her face.

"Are you always such a smug bastard?" Raf shot back, his wolfish eyes glowing.

Noel shook his head. "No, usually, I'm the antipathic or disinterested bastard. But I thought that a time of crisis called for a personality shift."

It was Raf's turn to roll his eyes.

"Lan covered for me on the days I didn't want to leave the house. He'd catch me up on all the schoolwork I missed, brought me food every day - even when he was going through his own crap."

He turned his head back to Noel.

"...That sound like someone who'd blow up a bus full of people?"

Noel shrugged. "Ted Bundy worked on a Suicide Prevention Hotline. People change but malevolence is always simmering just below the surface somewhere..."

But despite his hostility, the witch would be lying if he said that Raf's words didn't touch his feelings; some faint caress against his heart that made him second-guess his resolve.

The witch's mind wandered back to his nightmare a few days ago; to the burning cemetery, the disapproving glares of his coven, his 'father'.

Noel's hand balled into a fist and his teeth grit themselves.

Raf might have had a point about Landon's kindnesses, but sometimes even the deepest displays of love concealed the most sinister intentions. That was the cruel thing about betrayal - it only came from the people closest to you - from the people you loved.

And they always, always came at the worst possible time.

"...get that knife back for you and then we both can hear him out, okay?"

Raf's plea tore Noel away from his thoughts, the boy watching in silence as the young wolf was overtaken by a displeased Hope.

"Appreciate the passion," Hope sighed, her voice dripping with apathy. "But maybe you should exert some of it making new friends."

Noel shook his head wryly, an amused smile growing on his lips.

Raf scoffed. "So I can be as popular and well-liked as you two?"

Noel's smile disappeared the second those words left Raf's mouth, the boy's jaw setting as he locked eyes with Hope's.

"Yeah," Raf derided. "I've only been at the school for two days, and I've already heard all about Hope Mikaelson and her sunny disposition."

He turned back to Noel, the two exchanging glares.

"And even more about Nolan Griffith, the 'defective' witch with the magic temper tantrums."

Nolan. Defective. The combined use of his birth name and nickname from the witches made a sick, angry feeling swell in the boy's gut. If Raf had added to that, spirits know what Noel would be doing to him right now...

But Noel simply smiled, his eyes dripping with venom.

"Goes to show how much you actually know." Noel sneered. "The people that call me 'defective' are full of shit. Not to mention a little bit ableist."

He pushed past Raf, shoving against the wolf's shoulder as he stood beside Hope.

"I mean, I knew that you were hopelessly loyal and pig-headed, wolf boy, but I didn't think you were a judgy gossip-monger as well."

"All I'm saying," Raf defended. "Is that maybe you guys shouldn't act like you know what's best for everyone."

Noel folded his arms. "As opposed to the guy who, by his own admittance, has only been here for two days? The very same guy who's defending a thief that's royally screwed 'everyone' over? And risks endangering us?"

Raf bit his lip, glancing away and shaking his head.

"Is that what this is?" he asked. "Some kind of loyalty pledge? Bring Landon back here and prove that I'm loyal to the school?"

Noel said nothing, his gaze still level with Raf's.

"Alright, fine." Raf sneered. "You guys get off my case, cut Lan and me some slack. In return, I'll get you the stupid, not-stupid knife and the answers you want. I promise."

"Why should we believe you?" Hope asked curtly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Because I don't lie." Raf answered her.

Hope's laugh almost made Noel jolt with surprise, the witch wondering if Hope had momentarily lost her mind. "Everybody lies."

The girl bit her lip as she said those words, her eyes wandering to the area behind them; a derelict root cellar covered in a mossy overgrowth.

"He's in the root cellar," Hope told Raf. "You have three minutes to do this your way."

Raf paused. "But the Headmaster said don't engage-"

"Two minutes fifty-nine," Hope counted. "Two minutes fifty-eight, two minutes fifty-seven..."

Rafael bolted like a rabbit towards the root cellar, leaving a less-than-amused Noel in his wake.

"You really think that it's a good idea to give them three whole minutes by themselves?" Noel asked with folded arms.

"That's why they're not getting three minutes." Hope told him. There was an apathetic tone to her voice, but Noel could see an amused glint in her cool, greenish-brown eyes.

A trait from her father perhaps?

"Besides," Hope added. "There's no way out of that cellar that I can sense. And Rafael's hardly a threat."

"Just like Landon was 'hardly a threat'?" Noel asked.

Noel almost felt a pang of guilt as Hope shot him a look, the Tribrid's eyes narrowing into slits.

Yeah, that was definitely a low-blow. But after the fluke of Landon being immune to compulsion and escaping the Salvatore School like that, Noel knew they needed to be ready for anything.

Too much was at stake now. As far as Noel saw it, he and Hope needed to bring their A-Game or they were playing to lose.

No taking chances. At this point, Noel wouldn't be surprised if Landon had somehow discovered a secret tunnel or somethi- AGH!

A burning pain shot up Noel's side, from his left knee to his ribs, causing him to double over and clutch his side.

Speaking of 'playing to lose'. Noel groaned under his breath.

Hope took a single step towards him. She put a hesitant, but supportive hand on his back but Noel could barely feel it over the searing pain down his side.

Or the haunting voice ringing in his mind.

"あなたは彼の召喚に抵抗しました。 まだあなたに希望があります."

Noel groaned as he doubled over further, pressing both palms to the ground to support himself. "W-What?"

"あなたの最初のテストがあなたを待っています. 権力へのあなたの最初の障害。 あなたの生得権に."

Hope shook her hand on his back. "Noel! Hey, what's wrong?"

But once again, her half-hearted ministrations failed to relax Noel. His fingers dug into the damp earth, tears burning in the edge of his eyes. Come on, if this voice was going to give him a migraine, could it do it in English?!

"以前のように自分の力を否定しますか? それとも、最終的にそれを受け入れますか？ 慎重に選択してください。 世界はあなたの決定で成長または衰退します..."

Soon, the voice faded into some dark recess of Noel's mind and the pain faded with it - lifting like a morning fog and allowing Noel respite.

Rising to one knee, Noel gripped the side of a dead tree and hauled himself up, groaning distastefully at his now dirtied chinos.

Damn, he really liked those pants.

Meanwhile, Hope stood behind him. She averted her gleaming eyes but Noel waited, sensing that she had a question.

"...That from the fit you had at the Old Mill?" Hope finally asked, pursing her lips.

"...Yep." Noel groaned, his hands on his jeans. "Now I have a whole new reason to hate my magic."

Hope pursed her lips piteously as Noel stood up, his eyes narrowed at the ivy-ridden root cellar.

"C'mon," he sighed, tugging his sleeves over his scarred arms. "Let's grab this guy before he escapes again."

He and Hope crossed the clearing, the spring morning sun warming their faces as they reached the root cellar, where a frantic Landon awaited...

******

Noel had never seen a person spill their guts as fast as Landon Kirby. In the phantom grip of Hope's spell, the thief broke down and recounted the details of all the events that led him to this cellar.

Admittedly, he had stolen the knife and yes, Hope's vision of the burning bus was correct, but only half the story. The other half, however fanciful, could be summarized in three words that Noel never thought he would hear:

Fire. Breathing. Woman.

Considering the state of the bus and Landon's panic (and the torched forest clearings around the area), Noel, though bitter about Landon's actions, was not entirely unopen to Landon's story.

Of course, some were a little less convinced than others.

"I don't believe anything you say." Hope spat, her fist closing.

Landon winced as the power holding him to the wall intensified, his scrawny body creaking under the weight of Hope's magic.

"You have every right to be mad at me," he groaned. "But I am telling you the truth!"

He glanced at Raf, his pearly teeth clenched.

"Come on, man, help me!"

"I believe him." Raf said without a second thought.

Hope scoffed. "You believe that a fire-breathing woman burned up the bus?"

"Yeah." Raf repeated.

Noel sighed. Hope interrogating, Landon panicking and Raf defending - a round-robin of lies and insults trading that continued for almost five minutes, with no evidence of Landon's fire woman.

Until...

"There's a fire-breathing woman running through the woods!"

Noel wrinkled his nose as Alaric appeared in the cellar doorway, his grey shirt stained with sweat and his body reeking of smoke.

"What the hell happened?!" Hope exclaimed, holding a hand over her mouth.

The headmaster looked at her and Noel incredulously, his eyes narrowing as he saw Raf and Landon together.

"I could ask the both of you the same question." he rebutted. "Did I or did I not say 'don't engage'?"

Hope pursed her lips as Noel folded his arms, a smug smile on the boy's face. "Yeah, I bet it just sucks when people don't take your advice, huh?"

Alaric rolled his eyes. Clearly Noel wasn't going to let this go...

"Besides," Noel sighed, jabbing a finger in Landon's direction. "It's not like this bean-sprout here is a threat."

"Not unless crappy apologies can kill." Hope added.

"Well, looks can be deceiving..." Alaric retorted. He turned away for a moment, wincing as he swatted a blackened patch of his shirt.

Noel swallowed. Was that soot?

"Case in point," the headmaster groaned. "I ran into a woman after I made the call to the sheriff. Thought she was a survivor from the bus wreckage and tried to help her. But then she tried to burn me alive."

Noel snickered. "Well, you do have a way with women..."

Alaric ignored him. "Turns out that she's a pyromancer."

Landon's jaw dropped. "Wait, wh-what's a pyromancer?"

"...A fire-breathing witch." Hope shivered.

Raf chuckled smugly as Hope's face went deathly-white, the tribrid putting two and two together. "Ric, she wants the knife!"

"Well, where is it?" Alaric asked.

Noel tried and failed to suppress a groan. Again with the knife?!

Alaric's gaze followed Hope and Raf's line of sight towards Landon, the boy shrugging his trembling shoulders.

"I-I lost it in the woods." he stammered. "I was running around in circles all night tryna find a place to hide."

Alaric sighed, exhaling slowly and sharply in a way that made Noel feel uneasy.

"Okay, okay." the older man nodded. "Well, let's, uh, find it before she does, huh?"

Hope and Alaric were the first to rush up the cellar stairs, followed hesitantly by a skittish Raf and Landon.

But Noel lingered in the room, unloading the mother of all groans as he inhaled a breath of musty air.

What the hell was going on these last few days? One minute Noel, Alaric and Hope were enrolling a new werewolf and the next they're stuck between some thief and a pyromancer?

Noel wiped his hands over his face, his fingers lingering on the tuft of white hair dangling over his forehead.

Jesus Christ! When did he lose control over his life?! One idiot headmaster lets in one idiot human and now they were on an idiot retrieval mission for-

Noel let out a frustrated yell as he stormed up the cellar stairs, forcing down the urge to beat some silly. But as soon as he left the cellar, the witch stopped, almost bumping into Alaric and Raf.

"...We don't want any trouble." Noel heard Alaric say.

Noel peered past his headmaster's shoulder to see a dark-skinned woman in a dishevelled white dress standing before them - the stench of smoke rolling off her in waves.

The pyromancer. Noel realized.

The woman held out her hand demandingly, her magma-orange eyes flashing in Landon's direction.

"What does she want?" Raf asked, his voice laden with suspicion.

"I don't know..." Landon answered, lowering his eyes.

But the pyromancer seemed to know. She held out her hand again, snarling as she took a half-step forward.

Noel grit his teeth, his scowling eyes locking with Hope's.

"Landon." the witch seethed. "Do you have the knife?"

Landon shook his head. "N-No! I told you, I lost it last night-"

"Don't bullshit me." Noel snapped, the words barely passing his grit teeth. "Give her the knife and run for it."

But Landon shook his head. "I-I don't think that's a good idea."

Noel seized Landon by the collar, almost pulling the boy off his feet as he looked him dead in the eye.

"Hey, Noel!" Alaric chided.

But Noel ignored him, tightening his grip on Landon's collar. If his hands had been around Landon's throat, the latter's neck bones would be powder by now.

"Give her the knife, or I swear to God, I will-!"

A hideous shriek filled the air, a sound halfway between despair and sheer bloody terror.

Everyone whirled around with a start in time to see the pyromancer drop her arms and shuffle backwards, her mouth agape and hands held out in surrender.

But something else was wrong.

Once wide with obsession and bloodlust, the pyromancer's eyes were now wide and spilling over with tears. And her body, once lithe and coiled like a snake, was shaking as though riddled by an earthquake.

Alaric didn't need some supernatural senses or magic to know what the woman was experiencing. He had seen and felt this emotion far too much in his lifetime.

Fear. She was frightened.

Alaric glanced around the forest as the pyromancer snarled at them, her teary eyes narrowed into slits.

What could a pyromancer possibly be frightened of? They were apex witches. What could scare something that powerful-

"AGHHH!!"

Alaric and Hope whirled around as they heard Noel cry out in pain. The witch released Landon and collapsed to his knees in two seconds, clamping his hands to either side of his head.

"Noel!" Hope exclaimed. "What's wrong?!"

"Aghhh...!" the boy winced. "Make...it...stop!"

As if the burning pain in his nerves weren't enough, a horrific pressure was building in Noel's head, as if something were trying to burst free from his skull.

And if that wasn't bad enough, then the blood dripping from Noel's mouth and eyes was.

"Shit!" Alaric swore, completely forgetting the pyromancer. He jumped down to his knees and cupped Noel's face, the boy's eyelids drooping as his body shivered.

"Wha..." Noel panted. "Wha-Who are...you?"

"Noel," Alaric whispered. "Its me! Doctor Saltzman! Can't you recognise me?"

But Noel wasn't talking to Alaric.

Unseen by the others, a strange feminine figure had appeared between them and the pyromancer; almost seven feet tall and wrapped in an ivory white kimono that shone like diamonds in the sunlight.

The pyromancer kept shrieking at them, but seemed otherwise oblivious to the figure's presence - huffing and puffing as she watched Noel with frightened but hungry, shark-like eyes.

The ghostly woman drew closer to Noel, looming over Alaric like as locks of her ebony, taregami hair carressed the ground. Noel could make out a tapered 'v' shaped chin and a pair of ruby, blood-red lips but the rest of the woman's features were obscured by a strange animal mask.

Was it a cat? A tiger? A fox?

But before Noel could come up with an answer, the woman placed an alabaster hand on Noel's face, her crystal-like nails scraping the boy's cheekbone.

"Noel! Come on, we have to go!"

Noel shivered at the woman's touch. It was strange and alien but felt oddly warm and calming. Comfortable even.

It was almost...motherly.

"...目を覚ます、私の息子."

Noel gasped. Wait, that voice-

A strange sensation struck Noel like a thunderbolt, the feeling that he was falling awake and falling asleep all at once. He felt like he was floating, adrift in some unseen place beyond his body, before he was 'yanked' back into being, free of pain and full of energy.

And absolutely brimming with power.

"Noel?" Alaric asked again. "Noel, I need you to-"

Noel's fingers shot out and seized Alaric by the throat, his hand faster than lightning and his grip tighter than iron.

Hope gasped. "Noel! What the f-?!"

Noel backhanded her across the face, sending the tribrid flying into a thicket of dead trees behind her.

Raf tried to run to her, but Noel, still choking Alaric, delivered a swift side-kick to his stomach, the wolf collapsing like a house of cards.

The pyromancer lowed as she watched Noel turn on his peers, her throat glowing a blinding blood-orange.

But Noel whirled around and held out a fist in her direction, a phantom hand slamming shut around the pyromancer like a rat trap.

The pyromancer howled in the grip of Noel's spell, writhing and wriggling like a worm in the claws of an eagle. But the more she protested, the harder Noel squeezed his fist - the pyromancer's bones crackling under the spell's strain.

"N...Noel..!" Alaric coughed, Noel's hand still around his throat. "Snap...out...of-"

Noel tossed Alaric to the ground and advanced towards the pyromancer, his eyes narrowed as he raised a single hand towards her:

"なくなった!"

The spell exploded from Noel's palm like an atomic blast; piles of earth, rocks and dead leaves flying in all directions with a fearsome thunderclap.

The sheer force of the blast blew Alaric and the others further backwards, but none more so than the pyromancer; the woman screaming shrilly as she collided with a tree at the end of the clearing.

The area was in absolute chaos now. Magic energy thrashed and battered the clearing like some heavy, invisible hailstorm, carving cracks and fissures into the ground over three feet deep and fifty feet long.

And on top of that, a terrible tempest engulfed the forest; the very trees and air shaking as if in fear of the boy at the centre of the chaos.

"Noel!" Alaric shouted, trying and failing to resist the magic pinning him in place. "Noel! Snap out of it!"

But Noel wasn't listening, his attention focused solely on the downed pyromancer. The hafu boy approached the creature slowly, magic arcing across his fingertips as a low snarl rumbled in his throat.

"Now you die." Noel snarled at her, his voice low and guttural. "You disgusting beast...!"

And with a blood-curdling cry, he brought his fist down.

HOLY SH*T, NOEL HAS *LOST IT*! :O

A pyromancer on their path, a missing knife and NOW the mother of all magic fits!
How will the group get Noel under control this time?
 Will Noel be able to defeat the pyromancer single-handedly?
What has come over him so suddenly?
Why is he hearing Japanese voices in his head?
But more importantly - WHO was that ghostly woman that set off Noel's magic? 

Find out in the next chapter! :D  TYSM guys, and please don't forget to VOTE and COMMENT your thoughts so far. What do YOU guys think is going on? Who was that mysterious woman? 

I *CANNOT WAIT* to show you the next arc I have planned ;) 

Chapter Text

 "なくなった!"

The spell exploded from Noel's palm like an atomic blast; piles of earth, rocks and dead leaves flying in all directions with a fearsome thunderclap.

The sheer force of the blast blew Hope and the others clear off their feet, but none more so than the pyromancer; the woman screaming shrilly as she collided with a tree at the end of the clearing.

The area was in absolute chaos now. Magic energy thrashed and battered the clearing like some heavy, invisible hailstorm, carving cracks and fissures into the ground over three feet deep and fifty feet long.

Worse, a terrible storm had engulfed the forest, the very trees and air shaking as if in fear of the possessed Noel.

"Noel!" Alaric shouted, fighting the magic pinning him in place. "Noel! Snap out of it!"

But Noel wasn't listening; his attention focused on the screeching pyromancer. The hafu boy approached the woman slowly, magic sparking across his fingertips and a low snarl rumbling in his throat.

"嫌な獣!" Noel shouted, though his words were unknown to the others. "上司の前で滅びる!"

Noel flicked his right hand sharply to the left, a sickening snap ringing out from the pyromancer's body. The witch howled in agony and tried to crawl away, but Noel hurled another wave of magic at her, pinning the pyromancer to the tree.

Near the cellar, Hope was finally able to stand back up, but barely. The sheer power of Noel's magic lashed at Hope's skin like whips and rolled over her body like a tsunami of invisible flames. Even breathing was a Herculean task; every breath passing down Hope's throat like jagged rocks.

"Nghhh...Noel!" the tribrid shouted over the wind. She winced and raised her arms over her face, pushing against the fearsome winds. "Noel! Wake up!"

Still, Noel refused to listen, his mind preoccupied with some hostile, magical bloodlust. The boy was right before the pyromancer, blasting her with two more spells.

The first spell shoved the pyromancer halfway into the oak tree, but the second blew it (and the other trees) apart completely - bark and twigs exploding in all directions.

Protegas!

Hope pushed out her hands, a protective spell deflecting the debris but doing little to help the pyromancer.

The witch groaned wearily on the ground at Noel's feet, coughing up blood and embers as Noel seized her by the throat and dragged her up with one hand.

"Holy crap!" Landon gasped.

The pyromancer kicked and flailed in Noel's grip as he lifted her above his head, the woman scraping and pawing at his sleeve as her bloodshot eyes rolled back into her head.

"哀れな!" Noel lowed, baring his teeth like a lion. "世界はあなたを悼むことなく向きを変えます..."

"What's he saying?!" Raf shouted over the winds, hauling Landon back up onto his feet.

"I don't know!" Hope shouted back, her fingertips burning as Noel's magic battered her shield spell. "His outbursts have never been this bad before! His magic is going out of control!"

"Understatement of the century!" Landon shouted, scoffing.

Hope ignored him and moved forward, the barrier spell fizzling and crackling with every arduous step. By the time Hope took six steps, the barrier spell was practically failing.

Landon bit his lip as he watched Hope struggle, the curly-haired boy clenching a fist at his side.

"Raf!" he implored, taking his brother's arm. "We need to help her! We have to do something!"

Raf shrugged, the boy at a loss for words.

"W-What can we do, Lan?" he replied, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "Noel's having a magic breakdown, and Hope's barely standing!"

Landon groaned under his breath, his olive-green eyes frantically searching for something that could help out.

"Landon!" Alaric barked. "Don't try and interfere! With the way he is right now, Noel could kill yo-hey, whoa, what are you doing?!"

Alaric's eyes went wide as Landon picked up a heavy rock from the ground, the same rock Raf threw at the pyromancer, and took a defiant step forward.

"Hey, asshole!" Landon shouted at Noel. "Calm down! You're gonna kill us all!"

Alaric moved to intercept him, but it was too late. Landon had already let the stone fly.

Miraculously, the stone broke through the winds unscathed and seemed dead on target. But a split-second before it could hit Noel, the boy whirled around and caught it with his free hand.

And that's when everyone saw it.

"...What the hell?!" Raf exclaimed.

Noel's face, once fair and lively, was now ghostly porcelain. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and his cheekbones, once barely visible, were higher and prominent to the point that Noel appeared emaciated.

An ethereal visage. But those weren't even the most haunting change.

"...Oh my god..." Hope gasped, her jaw dropping.

Noel's eyes were glowing; two narrowed, cat-like orbs filled with hate, rage, and power - all burning together in a cacophony of blood-orange fire.

Snarling, Noel crushed the rock into powder (yes, crushed it) and threw the dust back in Landon's direction. The fragments struck Hope's shield like buckshot, dispelling it completely.

Hope screamed as the shield shattered, flying backwards as Landon caught her in a clumsy bear-hug. Noel glared at the group like he was about to attack them again when suddenly, he cried out in pain and gripped the right of his face.

Landon, Alaric, and Raf watched dumbfounded as Noel clamped a hand over his right eye, the amber glow in his left eye flickering like a dying car light.

"私と戦わないで!!" he yelled.

As the witch shouted and screamed, the chaotic magic engulfing the area suddenly started to die down, the winds all but ceasing and the air becoming easier to breathe.

"What the hell is happening?" Raf exclaimed.

"I don't know." Alaric breathed. "I think Noel is starting to get control over himself again!"

As Noel continued screaming, his grip loosened on the Dragon's throat. Barely a finger or two looser, but more than enough for the creature to kick Noel away.

Noel gasped, winded as the pyromancer's sooty heels connected with his stomach and knocked him to the ground.

"Hey!" Alaric shouted, bolting like a jackrabbit towards the unconscious Noel.

But the pyromancer's burning gaze stopped the man dead in his tracks, the woman swaying on her heels as her throat started to glow.

Alaric's eyes widened in horror. Oh no!

No, Noel was too far away! Hope was barely conscious, and there was no way Landon or Raf could take the pyromancer on right now. If she blasted Noel with those flames, he'd be incinerated!

"Noel!" Alaric called out. "Wake u-"

But it was too late. With a guttural roar, the pyromancer's lips parted, unleashing the flames within and engulfing Noel in a marigold inferno.

"NO!"

...Or so everyone thought.

The moment the flames approached him, Noel suddenly bolted upright, his palms thrusting outwards in the pyromancer's direction.

The flames lashed and licked at everything around them but stopped dead in their tracks the moment they came within three feet of Noel.

The pyromancer snarled defiantly and urged more power into the flames. But no matter how hard she pushed herself, they wouldn't budge. The fire burned there, frozen and roiling in mid-air as if locked within an invisible box.

"Whooooaa." Raf gasped, his dark eyes wide with awe.

The others could do nothing but mirror Raf's expression, amazed (even terrified) by the spectacle unfolding before them:

Noel Griffith, the 'defective' witch who struggled with simple spells, was holding off a pyromancer through sheer willpower.

The magic building between Noel and the pyromancer swelled to a crescendo, the flames expanding and 'rattling' like a water glass in an earthquake. Soon, a fresh burst of adrenaline shot up Noel's body, pushing the boy up from the ground and onto his feet.

It was the pyromancer's turn to struggle, her fire breath weakening as the flames between her and Noel writhed and screeched - feeding on the chaotic energy of Noel's magic.

The wind started to whip up again, a small tornado of dust circling around Noel's sneakers as the amber glow returned to his eyes. He winced, blood trickling down his nose and over his lips as his hands started to cramp.

"Let go." some voice of reason urged within his mind. "Let go!"

And with a furious shout, he did just that.

Noel shoved himself forward as if pushing someone over a ledge, directing all of his magic towards the pyromancer.

The flames collided with the pyromancer like a freight train, the volatile mix of magic and fire detonating.

The pyromancer let out an ear-splitting scream as the fire struck her like a freight train, consuming her in a fearsome explosion of magic and flame.

The blast sent the pyromancer hurtling into the trees, the sounds of breaking bone and pained cries ringing out as her body rag-dolled against the trees and disappeared into the woods.

...And then there was silence.

Noel swayed for a moment and fell onto his knees, panting like a whipped dog as Hope ran to his side.

"Noel..." the tribrid breathed, awe lingering in her blue-green eyes. "T-That was...that was incredible..!"

Noel groaned as Raf, Alaric and Landon ran over. The witch's body was feverish to the touch, and sweat pooled in a blackish patch at the back of his hoodie.

"Ugh..." he grunted, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "I don't feel very 'incredible'..."

Hope ignored his complaint as she inspected him for injuries. The boy had a few bruises from exchanging blows with the pyromancer and a bloody nose, but almost nothing else. Miraculously, there were no burns, not even a patch of soot on his clothes.

How was that even possible?

"Jesus Christ, Noel." Alaric chided as he knelt down to face Noel. "You could have been killed."

The headmaster cupped Noel's chin, moving his head from side to side until Noel swatted his hand away, pouting like a child.

"...Hey, uh...guys?"

Hope fought the urge to roll her eyes as Landon spoke. "What?"

Landon's gaze was glued to the treeline ahead, the same treeline the pyromancer disappeared into, his hazel eyes glazed over with fear.

"Y-You said that woman was...was a pyromancer, r-right?"

"Yes." Hope looked up to him, her back to the trees. "Do you have a point?"

Landon swallowed, a bead of sweat running down his face.

"Well, uh, do all pyromancers have...giant wings?!"

Hope gasped and whirled around as she stood up, an action repeated by everyone else.

Still on the ground, Noel tried to steal a glance at the treeline, but Alaric's broad frame blocked his line of sight.

Grunting, the boy stood up and nudged Alaric out of the way, his eyes meeting the creature emerging from the trees.

...He wished that they hadn't.

"What the hell is that?!" Raf exclaimed.

Everyone looked on in horror as the pyromancer emerged into the clearing, not only unscathed but also sporting two giant, bat-like wings on her back. With every step she took, a portion of her skin shed away like paper, revealing sludge-brown scales beneath.

By the time she was halfway across the clearing, the pyromancer was no more, and in her place stood a great, hulking-

"Dragon!" Alaric shouted.

The creature let out a blood-curdling shriek as Alaric spoke, the stench of burnt leather and rot permeating the air. It flew up into the air with a snarl, its wings blocking out the sunlight and kicking up gusts of wind.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Noel swore, taking a defiant step forward. "You have got to be kidding m- AGH!"

A familiar burning pain shot up Noel's body, his whole right side burning and going numb.

Noel's legs gave way beneath him again, but Raf caught him by the arm as he fell, receiving a glare from Hope.

"Take him with you and run back to the jeep. Landon too." the girl ordered, watching the Dragon cautiously. The creature climbed higher into the air, shrieking and roaring with every beat of its wings.

But even with the Dragon circling above, Noel glared back at her, pushing Raf away.

"You really expect me to leave you and the headmaster here while you take on a dragon?!"

The Dragon roared in the sky above, circling the forest like a bird of prey.

"No," Hope argued, her steely eyes blazing. "I expect you to take Rafael and Landon out of here so I can take on the Dragon without distractions."

Noel felt his shoulders sag as Hope looked back to the circling Dragon, the sharp pain still numbing his side.

"Besides, you're injured. You keep pushing yourself, and you'll have a stroke. Just get out of here, okay?"

Noel opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another shriek from the Dragon. The creature had completed its third lap over the forest and was circling back, Noel's lithe frame gleaming in the Dragon's reptilian eyes.

"You should take cover too." Hope told Alaric.

Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Like hell!"

Hope turned around with a hand on her hip. "Then tell me how I'm going to explain to your daughters that all that's left of you is hot ash?"

"The 'Dad' Card?" Alaric sighed. "That's a low blow!"

Noel rolled his eyes as Alaric bolted to the cellar. "Well, at least she didn't pull the 'Too Injured To Function' card on you-"

"Noel!" Hope snapped. "Move it!"

Noel bit his lip as the Dragon roared, flying straight at them.

"Fine!" he growled. "But don't come crying to me when that Dragon roasts you alive!"

The witch patted Raf's arm and jerked his head towards the forest, ignoring the pain in his legs as Landon and Raf sprinted into the woods.

For a split second, Noel stole a glance at Hope, a flutter of anxiety in his gut as Hope raised Landon's dagger at the diving Dragon.

"...Don't go dying on me, Mikaelson."

And before Hope could look back, he and the boys had already disappeared into the trees.

Alaric winced and rolled his neck as he exited the jeep, the gravel of the Salvatore School driveway crackling under his feet.

Jesus, he thought bitterly, that was going to be the last 'field trip' they were going to take for a while.

Hope stormed past him as they approached the entryway, followed closely by Noel, the two throwing the door open with an agitated flourish and starting down the hallway.

Alaric frowned. "Hope, I-"

But the tribrid kept walking, her jaw clenched and fists shaking as she disappeared up the stairs. Noel, shooting Alaric a look, disappeared into the kitchens.

Great, more damage control to fix later...

"Dorian?" Alaric called out. "You here?"

There was no reply, Alaric's voice reverberating down the sunlit hallways.

Did he go back to that football game with the kids? Hopefully, Lizzie and Josie were staying out of trouble...

Scratching his head, Alaric sauntered into his office and tossed the Knife (now wrapped in a burgundy cloth) onto his desk.

What a day, he thought as he leaned over his chair. First a theft from the library, threats of exposure, controlling some angry teenagers, a battle with a freakin' dragon...

Alaric sniffed his shirt, pulling back with a sharp cough.

...And now he smelled like a burnt, sweaty pig!

"Ric?" a woman called out from the hallway. "Was that you?"

"In here!" Alaric answered her, standing upright.

The faint clicking of heels filled the air until Emma Tyg appeared in the doorway, her gentle features awash with concern.

"Come on in." Alaric invited her. "Just be sure to close the door."

But Emma simply folded her arms and leaned on the threshold.

"Perhaps not." she said, stifling a cough. "It might do to air out the room a bit..."

Alaric sighed as he flopped onto his office chair. "That bad, huh?"

Emma gave him a sympathetic yet amused smile. "Well, put it this way; I can't tell if you took a bath in a hot sweat or got locked in a rotting smokehouse. Much less which came first..."

Alaric scoffed amusedly. "Yeah, yeah, very funny..."

"But..." Emma sighed, stepping into the office. "All things considered, I'd classify the stench as a win."

Alaric gave the witch a confused look as she sat down, the latter draping one leg over the other.

"...Dorian filled me in on the situation in the forest." Emma explained. "How fitting that a hunt for a magical item ended with a fight against dragon."

"Yeah," Alaric scoffed. "Getting chased around the forest by a fire-breathing monster. Livin' the dream..!"

Emma forced herself not to smile as Alaric reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, retrieving a bottle of honey-gold bourbon and two glasses.

She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes wide with worry, but Alaric shrugged.

"It's been a day..."

He poured himself and Emma a drink, clinking their glasses together before Emma could even pick hers up.

"To the joys of teaching."

Emma half-laughed as she brought her glass to her lips, but quickly wrinkled her nose as she took a swig.

She cleared her throat, patting her upper chest as she let the faint burning sensation pass.

"...So," Emma began. "What exactly happened?"

Alaric shrugged as he drank his bourbon.

"Well, we tracked Landon Kirby to the forest," the headmaster recounted, slouching in his chair. "Found out that he still had the Knife right as we were ambushed by the Dragon..."

"How did you defeat it?" Emma asked, her voice low.

Alaric sighed bitterly, an irritated sound that put Emma on edge.

"...We didn't. Hope wounded it with a..." Alaric paused for a moment. "With, an uh...spell, but it managed to get away while she fell unconscious."

Emma's thin eyebrows furrowed. "Hope passing out from magic? It must have been quite the spell."

Alaric averted his eyes, recalling the spat he and Hope had a mere few hours ago.

This isn't Earth Magic, Hope! This is your father!!"

"...Yeah, it was."

Alaric drank the last of the bourbon from his glass and forced the memory as far back into his mind as it could go, steeling himself for more of Emma's questions.

"...What about Nolan?" the witch asked.

Alaric stopped drinking, his jaw clenching at the mention of Noel's name.

"Was he able to help out at all? With the Dragon, I mean?"

Alaric released a low, steady sigh as he put his glass back down on the table, memories from the forest flitting through his mind.

Emma looked at Alaric worriedly. "Ric? Ric, what's wrong?"

Alaric stayed silent and reached for the bourbon bottle, but Emma grabbed it first and dragged it out of Alaric's reach.

"Ric." she repeated, her voice stern. "What. Happened?"

But when she saw the look in Alaric's eyes, that mixture of shame, frustration and fear, Emma already had her answer.

"...Nolan had another fit, didn't he?"

Alaric didn't need to answer her. The tension in his jaw and the death grip around his glass was all the confirmation that Emma needed.

"...It wasn't just a fit." he finally said. "It was a meltdown. A magic temper tantrum."

Emma let go of the bottle, allowing Alaric to pour himself another drink. "How so?"

"Well, from what we've seen," Alaric recalled. "Most of Nolan's 'fits' have just been bursts of flames, wind or a broken window. Pretty trivial stuff."

Emma raised an eyebrow. 'Trivial'? Tell that to all the carpenters and maintenance stuff the school had to keep on retainer.

"But this time...It felt worse. His magic felt so...I dunno...chaotic. And angry. Like it was lashing out at everything."

Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh.

"Call me crazy, Emma, but I'm starting to feel like...like whatever's wrong with Nolan is-"

"Getting worse?" Emma asked. "Well, not to sound like the voice of doom, but I've been wondering the same thing myself."

Alaric didn't respond to her answer, the man simply watching in silence as Emma tapped her manicured nails along her bourbon glass.

It made sense for Emma to have noticed changes in Nolan's behaviour. She had been spending the most time with him in recent months - sessions and extra sessions, and all that.

But why didn't she say anything sooner? Was she worried about invading Nolan's privacy, or overstepping her bounds?

Alaric didn't know, but one thing was for sure:

Emma looked as scared as he felt.

"...We have to figure out what's wrong with Nolan," Alaric concluded. "Now more than ever."

Emma let her lean frame sink into her chair. "Where do you suggest we start?"

"Well, for starters," Alaric said, folding his arms onto the desk. "We need to keep this between us. We can confide in Dorian if we need an extra pair of eyes. But if we get anyone else involved, we run the risk of Nolan finding out."

There was a mischievous glint in Emma's smile. "So I take it that simply asking Noel isn't an option?"

Alaric shook his head, but couldn't help but smile at Emma's dry humour. "Heh, no. But try to dig a little more during your sessions with him. There might be some kind of clue or hint that he'll drop without realising it."

Emma nodded and downed the rest of her bourbon, glancing at her leather wristwatch.

"Dorian and the others will be back with the kids soon. I'd best head off. Thank you for the drink, Ric."

Alaric nodded, a worried expression on his face.

"Hey," Emma stood up and placed her hand over Alaric's, a rush of heat shooting up the man's arm. "We're going to get to the bottom of this. For all of our sakes and for Nolan's."

Alaric averted his eyes but urged himself to nod and give Emma a thankful smile. Without another word, the woman turned away and left, a feeling of security ebbing from Alaric's heart.

Alaric poured himself another drink, the questions buzzing in his mind quietened by the bourbon's hot-cold burn.

The headmaster couldn't help but chide himself for not being on top of this sooner. He and Caroline had agreed to make this place to support and create a safe haven for supernatural kids. Yet here he was, completely in the dark about one of their first students and a threat to the school's security.

Alaric groaned bitterly as that thought crossed his mind.

Ugh, he couldn't think of Nolan like that, but this was starting to get out of hand. That fit he had in the woods, what if it had happened in the school? What if it had been one of the students that Noel had attacked? What if it had been Lizzie or Josie in that Dragon's place?

Alaric drowned the thought with another mouthful of bourbon, his hands shaking.

They had to figure something out before Nolan's fits got even worse. But what leads did they have to go on that they hadn't tried already?

Caroline had already tried Nolan's ward, but he wouldn't even pick up the phone let alone answer any questions.

Dorian had spend days in the library researching supernatural afflictions similar to Nolan's. Nothing.

None of the other teachers knew what to do either, even with their varied supernatural experiences. And all tests for mental illness that they put Nolan through came back negative.

Alaric sighed, his broad frame sagging in his chair.

And they didn't have anything else of Nolan's to go on either; no other background information, heritage, personal objects or-

Alaric gasped. Wait.

The man put down his glass and steered his chair back, his eyes landing on the topmost drawer of his desk - a bronze keyhole staring back at him.

Twisting the lock open with a brass key in his pocket, Alaric tugged the drawer open and beheld the contents with a steady breath.

There were two photos of Lizzie and Josie, some tri-fold Salvatore School brochures, and a pile of folders labelled 'ADMIN' in bold red letters.

Alaric's jaw clenched.

And way at the back, a small drawstring bag.

The bag was barely the size of a small wallet, and made from a navy-blue fabric that was incomparably soft to the touch.

But despite that feeling of comfort, a cold feeling crept up Alaric's spine as he held the bag in his hand.

He hadn't been there the day that Nolan turned up at the school nine years ago, but Alaric had heard the gist of it from Caroline.

Nolan had shown up at the school, practically out of nowhere, with nothing but a few hundred dollars, the clothes on his back and an emergency contact number. His arrival didn't exactly follow the Salvatore School's usual enrolment process, to say the least.

Alaric opened the drawstring bag, the contents falling into his palm.

But the strangest thing about Nolan's enrolment? This crystal ball that he had been sent with.

Alaric held the ball up between two fingers, the smooth crystal and silver chain glistening in the afternoon sunlight.

This ball, Nolan's ward had prioritised it over a letter of recommendation, medical forms, transfer papers, even a suitcase of clothes. What was so important about it?

Fzzt!

Alaric cried out in surprise as a jolt of heat shot up his hand, causing him to drop the ball. The object rolled but stopped midway across the desk, an ethereal whisper emanating from its crystalline surface.

What the hell was that? Alaric wondered, watching the ball as if it were some coiled snake waiting to strike.

"We're going to get to the bottom of this." Emma's words replayed in his mind. "For all of our sakes and for Nolan's."

They were investigating Nolan's past to help the boy figure out his problems. To help the school. Their methods, though a little less than transparent, were for Nolan's good and everyone else's.

Alaric swallowed, his face reflected in the ball as if he were staring into someone's eyes.

...So why did Alaric feel like this mystery could only end in something terrible?

The Dragon's breaths came in ragged, wheezing gasps as she ran to the edge of the forest.

Dirt soiled her dress, branches whipped at her face and the rocks and leaves scuffed her feet as she finally broke through the trees and into the open.

The Dragon paused, sniffing the air and looking around.

The sun was setting, the sky painted in swathes of reds, purples and orange-yellows. The last rays of sunlight fell across the highway some feet ahead of the Dragon, turning its dark surface a translucent black.

The Dragon relaxed her shoulders as she adjusted to the soft noises of the night, her heartbeat ringing in her ears.

No humans, she realized. None of their crude wood and stone buildings, or their self-driving carriages and-

<"Got you~!">

The Dragon whirled around as a spear-like object whistled through the air and tore through her left shoulder.

The creature squealed like a stuck pig as she fell backwards to the ground, spasming on the grass like a dying cockroach as smug laughter filled the air.

<"Well, how about that?"> her attacker mused, speaking some strange language. <"A dragon runnin' around in America of all places? I mean, I knew you guys were big in the West and all, but wow!">

The attacker came into full view now. It was another boy with the same fair-skinned, delicate features of the powerful one from before.

However, unlike the boy from before, this one was dressed rather strangely - in ripped, black skinny-jeans rolled above the ankles and a pair of Doc Marten shoes with neon-green laces.

But his strangest item of clothing by far was his denim and leather jacket, the blood-red fabric bringing out the luminous magenta streaks in his hair.

<"Ah man,"> the boy mused, removing a pair of green hippy glasses from his face. <"The things you find while travellin', huh?">

The boy had an infectious laugh, but every giggle chilled the Dragon to the bone and wound every tension in her body tighter.

With a pained whine, the Dragon wrenched the spear (a thick branch with a decoratively whittled end) and stood upright, her dress bloody and legs wobbling.

The Dragon brandished the spear, a low growl rumbling in her throat as the boy chuckled.

<"Aw, c'mon, babe. Can't we talk this out?">

The Dragon shrieked and hurled the branch with lightning speed, but the boy simply angled his body out of the way, his eyes locking with the Dragon's.

The Dragon's body froze in a cold snap of panic as she met the boy's gaze, the fluorescent glow in his eyes sending chills rocketing down her spine.

Those eyes...they were just like-!

Suddenly, vines erupted from the grass beneath the Dragon's feet, lashing themselves around her arms and her throat and rearing her back.

The Dragon let out a sharp gasp as the vines choked her, the giggling boy dominating her vision.

Was he doing this?

<"I guess I'll take that as a 'no'..."> the boy winced jovially. The light in his eyes brightened, his pupils glowing like orange orbs in the darkness of the dusk.

He flexed his fingers, the vines tightening around the Dragons' body like pythons as the boy started towards her.

<"Y'know..."> the youth sighed, his tongue still unknown to the Dragon's ears. <"It's really your own fault that you're in this position. If disgustin' beasts like you just understood your place and kept hidin'...">

He stopped in front of her.

<"...Then I wouldn't have to do this.">

And without another word, the boy punched his fist through the Dragon's chest.

The Dragon gasped, her whole body seizing up as the boy's fist tore through her. He was still for a moment, his eyes glowing callously until he pulled his fist back - the Dragon's heart clenched between his clawed fingernails.

The Dragon groaned, a final pathetic sob as the darkness swallowed her vision, her head dropping limply as blood spilled over her lips.

The boy scoffed. Dead already? Jeez, one would think that a supernatural apex predator would be a little more resilient-

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

The boy looked down as something buzzed furiously in his jacket pocket. Grumbling, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a lime-green phone, the caller ID flashing in bold white letters:

INKUNE.

The boy groaned. <"Oh, for fuck's-Hello? That you, Inky?">

A disapproving murmur rattled from the other end of the call.

<"Suta."> Inkune's acknowledged in a cold voice. <"Curt as ever, I see.">

The boy, Suta, scoffed as he glanced away from the Dragon's corpse. <"And you've got shit timing, as ever. There a reason that you called me?">

<"You and the others were summoned almost two days ago."> Inkune chided him. <"Where are you?">

<"Ughhhh, I've been busy."> Suta sighed. He started tossing the Dragon's heart up and down in his hand as if it were a tennis ball.

<"Busy doing what?"> Inkune almost scoffed. <"Torturing some lesser yokai? Some witches? Or just tangling yourself up in the thighs of some harlot?">

<"Hey,"> Suta stopped tossing the heart. <"We all need a little downtime. You don't see me shamin' you for your hobbies.">

He snickered.

<"I mean, if you have any hobbies, besides bein' Rokubi's bitch.">

A nagging little voice in Suta's head encouraged him to tell Inkune about the Dragon, but Suta forced it to the back of his mind. The last thing Inkune needed was more of an excuse to give him a lecture.

<"Well,"> Inkune sighed. <"As flattered as I am that you are taking an interest in my personal affairs, I'm afraid that I must insist you direct that enthusiasm elsewhere. Like returning to the forest estate. We have a new mission for you.">

<"And what mission will that be?"> Suta sighed. He drop-kicked the Dragon's heart with a flourish, punching the air as it landed on the road with a fleshy 'splat'.

<"...Who does Rokubi want dead now?">

<"Not dead."> Inkune corrected him. <"Found.">

The aide paused for a moment as if bracing himself to deliver shocking news.

<"...We are doubling our efforts to find the Hirotsu.">

Suta froze. His painted fingernails dug into his phone, squeezing the lime green case in a death grip.

<"So..."> he inhaled. <"Rokubi's still searching for that crazy chick?">

Images of the blonde-haired woman from Rokubi's files flashed through Suta's mind like lightning, stirring a flutter of anxiety in his stomach.

<"Rokubi-sama never gave up the search."> Inkune said, his monotone voice lowering. <"But it seems that the same cannot be said about those entrusted with the search.">

Suta drew a breath. Man, he did not want to be those guys right now...

<"Rokubi-sama has requested that you aid in the search for her. Please return to the estate in the New York forest immediately for further information. Failure in locating the Hirotsu is not an option.">

And without another word, Inkune hung up.

Suta rolled his eyes as he stuffed his phone back into his jacket. 'Requested that he lead the investigation'? Since when did Rokubi 'request' anything?

The youth let his eyes wander over the darkened forest for a moment until his gaze fell back upon the Dragon.

The creature's corpse hung there limply, its blood running down the vines in thick, lukewarm rivulets.

<"Yeah, yeah..."> Suta groaned, wiping his bloody hand on the Dragon's dress. <"Stringin' you up on the vines was a bit of a dick move, but it could've been worse...">

He pulled his hand back with a stifled laugh.

<"...Old Inky could've come here and beat you with the stick he's got lodged up his ass!">

Suta cackled uproariously, his manic laughter echoing across the dark, empty highway. He willed himself to stop after a quarter minute, wiping his eyes with one hand and reaching for his glasses with the other.

But as he replaced his glasses over his eyes, an odd sensation washed over Suta's heart.

It was an odd feeling, like a chill down the spine, only hotter and focused across his whole body. The sensation was alien and uneasy, yet oddly familiar.

...It couldn't be. Suta thought.

But the feeling quickly dissipated, prompting Suta to shrug.

<"Whatever,>" he exhaled, starting down the dark road. <"I've got better shit to do...">

And within moments, the boy was gone, leaving nothing but the lynched Dragon's corpse and the faint echoes of laughter behind him... 

Chapter Text

This book is still ongoing! I haven't given up on it, guys!

I won't go into a tirade about why I haven't updated, etc, only that I have only just gotten over some stuff and gotten over a HORRIBLE case of writers block and perfectionism. What I *will* give you guys, as proof that I am still keeping up with this book, with some teasers for future chapters (in true Legacies episode leaks fashion), a sneak peek of the upcoming chapter AND some questions that I'd like you guys to answer regarding the future of this series:

Inari Rising #6 - Noel is forced into community service for his actions in the forest. There, he tries to mend fences with Hope and Josie, but finds his attempts de-railed by nagging memories, Timberwolf jocks and a mysterious, magenta-haired girl. Meanwhile, the Salvatore School is invaded by a sinister gargoyle monster.

Inari Rising #7 - Frustrated by his sessions with Emma, Noel skips his session and finds an unlikely ally in Raf, only to run afoul of Jed and his pack instead. Meanwhile, Mr Rokubi and Inkune receieve a sudden visit from Veronica Greasley, who brings terrible news...

Inari Rising #8 - Aware that Noel's fits are attracting unwanted attention to the school, Alaric recruits Josie, Lizzie, MG and Marc into digging into Noel's background. Meanwhile, Landon is put through some rigorous tests by Hope and Emma.

Questions:

1. Are you satisified by the story so far?
Is it moving too quick/slow?

2. Is Noel a good protagonist so far?
Does he seem fleshed-out and/or three-dimensional?
Is he too annoying/shifty?
If you had to rate his likeability/relatability on a scale of 1-5, what would it be?

3. What other characters would you like to see Noel interact with?
Or is the story bloated enough as is?

4. Who do you prefer as a love interest to Noel - Hope, Josie or Penelope?
If you do have answer, why Noel with that particular person?

5. Are the chapter lengths good enough or should they be lengthened/shortened?

6. Is Noel hogging too much of the spotlight/overshadowing Hope and the others?
Does he seem Mary/Gary Stu-ish?

7. Do you have any theories about what/who Noel is?
Without commenting it, is it too obvious?
Or is the mystery dragging out too much?

If you could take the time to answer these, it would be an IMMEASURABLE help going forward. I always take advice and comments on board and I always respond to comments left in my books (within reason, obvs).

Anyways, here's the sneak peek for the next chapter ;)

 Noel frowned. "What?"

The memory of the sunny school grounds and Hayley's smiling face disappeared, swallowed by the dim of Emma Tyg's office.

Emma sat across from him in a low leather chair, her golden skin illuminated by streaks of noontime sun creeping through the blinds.

"You drifted off for a moment." she said, giving Noel that neutral, therapist 'smile'. "I asked you to think of the last time you felt like you had someone you could trust yourself around. A positive role model in your life?"

Noel sighed, resting his cheek on his left fist. "And?"

"And," Emma persisted. "Did you think of anything?"

Hayley's face lingered in Noel's mind a moment longer before he willed it away.

"...No." he lied.

Emma pursed her lips, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her crossed legs. She had never expected getting the students at this school to open up easily, but she didn't expect such resistance either.

And Noel was Exhibit A, a boy with such cold, impenetrable walls that he almost gave Hope Mikaelson a run for her money. Hell, at least Hope would get defensive when backed into a corner, throwing Emma a few details or admittances in the process.

There were no such concessions with Noel, however. Even when talked into a corner or caught in a lie, the hafu youth wouldn't yield an inch.

She fought the urge to sigh.

But she couldn't give up yet. Alaric was counting on her to find answers to the mystery of Noel's past and heritage - something that could provide the key (or at least a direction) into figuring out where his meltdowns came from.

But Noel was the only one with those answers, which meant only he could lead Emma to them. It was like depending on your enemy to tell you how to undo him (though she refused to see Noel in that manner).

"So you have no recollection of a positive parental figure in your life?" Emma asked. "None whatsoever?"

Playing along with the patient's lie. It was an old therapist's trick but hopefully one that Noel wouldn't see. She didn't need an answer to whom he thought of (averting his eyes before answering was a dead giveaway), she just needed to prevent him from any mental pivoting.

"Story of my fucking life." Noel scoffed, slouching forward and leaning over his knees. "And the same one we've been talking about since I was dumped in this place..."

'Dumped in this place'. Emma thought. Dumped. It was a colloquial word, but synonymous with garbage or discarding. Clearly, Noel wasn't happy about his 'enrolment' into the school.

"Can we talk about something else for a change?" Noel asked, as if he could read Emma's thoughts.

"Alright." Emma acquiesced, readjusting herself in her chair. "How about we talk about your fit yesterday?"

Noel groaned, throwing himself backwards in his chair. "Something! Else!"

But Emma persisted. "That was your fifth meltdown in less than a year. Your second in a week. Back when you were a child, you would have one or two a year at most."

Noel shrugged, his eyes glazed with apathy. "Growing pains?"

Emma tapped her finger against her knee once again. "I'm starting to get the notion that you aren't taking this seriously. Need I remind you that your last fit nearly destroyed one of the Magic classrooms?"

Noel rolled his eyes. "I broke a few windows and knocked over some tables. That's not even close to 'destroying' a classroom."

The boy scoffed again.

"Besides, if you want to talk about destroying a room, you should ask Lizzie about that shit she pulled in the kitchens-"

"Stop deflecting." Emma cut him off. Her voice was gentle and composed as before, but with a noticeably firmer edge. "And you know full-well that Lizzie suffers from bipolar disorder and a chaotic magic bloodline."

Noel rolled his eyes. Emma was being unusually firm today. He had never paid much attention or put much focus into these sessions, but Noel had paid just enough attention to know that Emma usually let his deflections and tangents slide.

But today, she had chastised him twice in only two minutes. Why? Had she finally run out of patience? Or was she working a different angle?

"Let's circle back to what happened in the forest yesterday." Emma suddenly said. "With that Dragon."

Noel's eyes narrowed. "How the hell did you-"

"It doesn't matter who told me." Emma told him, again with that firm voice. "I want to hear your side of it. You were in the forest. You, Hope and Rafael had tracked down Landon Kirby. What happened after that?"

Noel folded his arms, sighing in surrender as he looked up.

"...We found that pube-haired thief," he grumbled. "Cornered him in some old cellar. Hope was about to give him a very deserved magic ass-kicking, when Dr Saltzman ran in, freaking out about some fire-breathing woman."

"The pyromancer." Emma nodded.

"Yeah, her," Noel shrugged. "We all rushed outside to find that knife Kirby stole and..."

Noel trailed off, his gaze lowering again.

"And then?" Emma asked.

And then... Noel let Emma's words ring in his mind. And then...

"...I-I don't remember." he finally answered. "The next thing I know, I'm waking up on the ground, right as that woman turned into a Dragon and, well you know the rest."

Emma sighed disappointedly as Noel's posture relaxed. Why did she get the feeling that Noel wasn't telling her everything?

The witch was about to push the issue when a monotone ringing suddenly filled the hallway outside.

The end of first period.

Noel stood up immediately, tucking two books under his arm and starting for the door before Emma could dismiss him.

"Noel," the woman said. "You know that this is a safe place, don't you? If you have trouble with anyone or anything you-"

"I can come to you and talk about it..." Noel groaned. "Yeah, don't take this personally, Emma..."

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his hand still on the brassy door knob.

"...But I don't want to talk to you about it, okay?"

Emma clenched her jaw as Noel slammed the door shut, a coldness washing over her shoulders like a shawl of ice.

...This was going to take some work.

The full update will come out soon, another two-parter to save on making too long a chapter. Your support and continued reads/re-reads of 'Inari Rising' mean the world to me, so thank you all very much.

- Kai-Shiro <3 

Chapter Text

YEARS AGO

Parent-teacher days have always been chaotic affairs. From the endless small talk and niceties to the rush and pre-planning, to say nothing of the tempers and child-centric anxieties that could flare up at a moment's notice.

And that was just at ordinary schools.

As with everything at the Salvatore School For The Young and Gifted, Parent-teacher days were heightened by the dangers and uncertainties of the supernatural.

But in the end, all present were united by one mission: a safer and more certain future for their children—the future of the world's supernatural community. And that mission was enough to overcome centuries of adversity, to bring parents together from far and wide.

Except for the parents of one child.

Nolan stood on his toes, peering as far as he could over the bannisters of the lobby stairway. He had been standing there, on and off his feet, for the better part of two hours, awaiting the arrival of one man.

He hadn't shown up last year, but surely his dad had to show up this year, right?

But as the hours passed and the morning light faded, so did Nolan's hopes. By the late afternoon, the boy no longer stood with his arms around the bannisters but sat on the floor, his arms around his knees.

He wasn't coming. Again.

The pain and rumbling of an empty and disappointed stomach broke the last of Nolan's resolve, the boy stepping down from the bannisters and into the foyer, amongst the adults.

Some of the parents ignored Nolan, others moved aside to make room for him in the Great Hall, beaming at him with those fake smiles that adults liked making.

But the rest turned themselves and their children away from Nolan, glaring at the boy as though he were a leper.

Nolan shoved his hands into his pockets, the adults' gazes like acid on his skin as he marched down the hall.

Did they know about that explosion at the Old Mill last month?

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Nolan's ears caught some of the conversations around him.

"Is that him?" a man asked.

"Yes." a woman beside him hissed. "Evil little brat."

Nolan bit his lip, hunching his shoulders as if to raise them over his ears.

"How the hell did this shit even happen?" another adult asked in a hushed whisper, squeezing their son's shoulders protectively.

"My kid almost got burned!" another complained shrilly.

Nolan whimpered, his head hanging lower.

"I thought this school was supposed to be safe!" a man complained in a voice just above a whisper. "What the hell are we paying this Saltzman guy for anyway?!"

"Shush!" the man beside him hushed. "The kid might hear you!"

By now, the eyes of nearly every parent were upon Nolan. The boy bit his cheeks to stop his eyes from welling up, when suddenly, another child appeared in front of him.

"Hey, Nolan." the girl smiled, her two front teeth missing. "You look real unhappy, what's wrong?"

But before Nolan could answer, a woman in a black pantsuit appeared. She put her hands on the girl's shoulders and turned her away.

"Stay away from my daughter, you little brat!"

Those last words hit Nolan like a blow to the heart, the final hammer swing to the dam of tears that he had been trying so desperately to hold back.

As his eyes burned and his vision blurred, Nolan broke into a run, fleeing as far from the adults as his little legs could carry him.

******

*Sniff, sniff*

Nolan rubbed his eyes on the backs of his sleeves, sobbing quietly behind some hedges near the lake.

Tears burned in the child's eyes anew as footsteps echoed from behind.

Nolan hugged his knees as he felt a person approach. "Leave me alone, Ms Tyg, I don't wanna talk."

"How about to someone other than Ms Tyg?"

A feeling of surprise shot up Nolan's back as the stranger spoke. The hafu boy turned around, holding a hand over his face to block the sun from his eyes. The blinding rays disappeared, but the stranger's radiance persisted: a youthful woman with glistening brunette hair, olive skin and a bright smile.

Nolan swallowed as the woman pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and strode over to the boy's side, sitting on the grass beside him.

"Having a bad day?" the woman asked, her smile unrelenting.

Nolan said nothing.

"Did you want to talk about it? I'm not your school counsellor, but I can still listen to you and hear you out."

Again, Nolan said nothing. He shirked back a few inches, which only made the woman smile more, with the lightest snicker.

"Okay," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "We don't have to talk. We can just sit out here and watch the gardens, or play with the flowers."

She reached over to the garden bed to Nolan's left, pulling out six small flowers.

"I'm sure Dr. Saltzman won't mind if I take a few flowers, right?" the woman winked.

She reached past Nolan and into the flower bed beside him, removing a few daisies, her smile persisting.

Nolan watched her cautiously as the woman started knotting the flowers together, as if she were plaiting hair for a ponytail.

Ms Tyg had shown the kids in his class something like this before, 'flower daisy chains', she called them. The others had a lot of fun, almost tearing up the whole garden for flowers, but Nolan had struggled to make even one.

Nolan hung his shoulders, sagging his head deeper into his knees.

Just another thing I can't do... he thought glumly.

"Hey, come on, what's making you sad?" the woman asked, finally looking away from her flowers.

Nolan didn't look at her. "...I don't want to talk."

"I didn't say you had to." the woman smirked. "I just wanted to know what's got you so upset."

She knotted the last of the flowers together, forming a neat chain.

"...Sometimes it helps to talk, y'know?"

They sat in silence for almost a minute, the woman making another daisy chain as Nolan stared absently at the grass.

"...No-one here likes me." the boy finally said. "They're all scared of me. They hate me."

The woman lifted her right knee, resting her arm and head along it as she looked at Nolan. "Why do they hate you?"

Nolan's small frame stiffened, holding his knees closer as if for protection.

"...I can't control my magic." he confessed. "I can't use it. And sometimes it comes out of me and blows things up. Or breaks rooms. Or hurts others."

The woman said nothing, Nolan failing to notice her sympathetic gaze.

"I've heard the others talk about me when they think I'm not listening..." Nolan said, his eyes burning again. "T-That they think I should be sent somewhere else. That they think I'm different. T-That I'm-" he choked back a sob. "That I'm not a witch..!"

Nolan sniffed again, wiping his eyes with the cuffs of his sleeves as the woman looked on.

"I just..." the boy whimpered. "I just wish I wasn't me. I wish I wasn't different..."

"Don't wish that." the woman told him. "Don't wish that you weren't different. 'Different' doesn't always mean 'scary', it can mean 'better' as well."

Nolan hunched his shoulders. "Easy for you to say. You're nice and pretty and an adult. Everyone probably likes you..."

The woman chuckled once as she lifted her hand, her pale olive skin gleaming in the sunlight before turning slightly darker.

Nolan's eyes went wide as the woman's hand changed, the skin turning hairier and her delicate fingers growing long black nails.

The woman seemed amused by Nolan's reaction, smiling as the boy looked on in a bewildering mix of wonder and terror.

"...You'd be surprised." the woman said. "I was born a werewolf, but went through some...changes after I had my little girl. Now there are some people who don't think I'm a werewolf at all."

Nolan was silent as the hair on the woman's hand retracted. As she pulled her hand back to her knees, the woman nudged Nolan playfully with her shoulder.

"...Guess we both have that in common don't we. Being different from who we were born as?"

At last, Nolan met the woman's eyes, holding out her hand with one of the kindest smiles the boy had received in a long time.

"My name's Hayley. What's yours?"

Something caused Nolan to pause. He didn't know whether it was the brightness of the sun, the warmth in Hayley's eyes and words, or just the woman's beauty, but something about her made Nolan relax and freeze up all at once.

The witch swallowed, parting his damp, tear-ridden lips as he answered her question:

"Nolan?"

PRESENT

Noel frowned. "What?"

The memory of the sunny school grounds and Hayley's smiling face disappeared, swallowed by the dim of Emma Tyg's office.

Emma sat across from him in a low leather chair, her golden skin illuminated by streaks of noontime sun creeping through the blinds.

"You drifted off for a moment." she said, giving Noel that neutral therapist 'smile'. "I asked you to think of the last time you felt like you had someone you could trust yourself around. A positive role model in your life?"

Noel sighed, resting his cheek on his left fist. "And?"

"And," Emma persisted. "Did you think of anything?"

Hayley's face lingered in Noel's mind a moment longer before he willed it away.

"...No." he lied.

Emma pursed her lips, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her crossed legs. She had never expected getting the students at this school to open up easily, but she didn't expect such resistance either.

And Noel was Exhibit A, a boy with such cold, impenetrable walls that he almost gave Hope Mikaelson a run for her money. At least Hope would get defensive when backed into a corner, throwing Emma a few details or admittances in the process.

However, there were no such concessions with Noel. Even when talked into a corner or caught in a lie, the hafu youth wouldn't yield an inch.

She fought the urge to sigh.

But she couldn't give up yet. Alaric was counting on her to find answers to the mystery of Noel's past and heritage - something that could provide the key (or at least a direction) into figuring out where his meltdowns came from.

But Noel was the only one with those answers, which meant only he could lead Emma to them. It was like depending on your enemy to tell you how to undo him (though she refused to see Noel in that manner).

"So you have no recollection of a positive parental figure in your life?" Emma asked. "None whatsoever?"

Playing along with the patient's lie. It was an old therapist's trick but hopefully one that Noel wouldn't see. She didn't need an answer to whom he thought of (averting his eyes before answering was a dead giveaway), she just needed to prevent him from any mental pivoting.

"Story of my fucking life." Noel scoffed, slouching forward and leaning over his knees. "And the same one we've been talking about since I was dumped in this place..."

'Dumped in this place'. Emma thought.

Dumped. It was a colloquial word, but synonymous with garbage or discarding. Clearly, Noel wasn't happy about his 'enrolment' into the school.

"Can we talk about something else for a change?" Noel asked, as if he could read Emma's thoughts.

"Alright." Emma acquiesced, readjusting herself in her chair. "How about we talk about your fit yesterday?"

Noel groaned, throwing himself backwards in his chair. "Something! Else!"

But Emma persisted. "That was your fifth meltdown in less than a year. Your second in a week. When you were a child, you would have one or two a year at most."

Noel shrugged, his eyes glazed with apathy. "Growing pains?"

Emma tapped her finger against her knee once again. "I'm starting to get the notion that you aren't taking this seriously. Need I remind you that your last fit nearly destroyed one of the Magic classrooms?"

Noel rolled his eyes. "I broke a few windows and knocked over some tables. That's not even close to 'destroying' a classroom."

The boy scoffed again.

"Besides, if you want to talk about destroying a room, you should ask Lizzie about that shit she pulled in the kitchens-"

"Stop deflecting." Emma cut him off. Her voice was gentle and composed as before, but with a noticeably firmer edge. "And you know full-well that Lizzie has bipolar disorder and a chaotic magic bloodline."

Noel rolled his eyes. Emma was being unusually firm today. He had never paid much attention or put much focus into these sessions, but Noel had paid just enough attention to know that Emma usually let his deflections and tangents slide.

But today, she had chastised him twice in only two minutes. Why? Had she finally run out of patience? Or was she working a different angle?

"Let's circle back to what happened in the forest yesterday." Emma suddenly said. "With that Dragon."

Noel's eyes narrowed. "How the hell did you-"

"It doesn't matter who told me." Emma told him, again with that firm voice. "I want to hear your side of it. You were in the forest. You, Hope and Rafael had tracked down Landon Kirby. What happened after that?"

Noel folded his arms, sighing in surrender as he looked up.

"...We found that pube-haired thief," he grumbled. "Cornered him in some old cellar. Hope was about to give him a very deserved magic ass-kicking, when Dr Saltzman ran in, freaking out about some fire-breathing woman."

"The pyromancer." Emma nodded.

"Yeah, her," Noel shrugged. "We all rushed outside to find that knife Kirby stole and..."

Noel trailed off, his gaze lowering again.

"And then?" Emma asked.

And then... Noel let Emma's words ring in his mind. And then...

"...I-I don't remember." he finally answered. "The next thing I know, I'm waking up on the ground, right as that woman turned into a Dragon and, well you know the rest."

Emma sighed disappointedly as Noel's posture relaxed. Why did she get the feeling that Noel wasn't telling her everything?

The witch was about to push the issue when a monotone ringing suddenly filled the hallway outside.

The end of first period.

Noel stood up immediately, tucking two books under his arm and starting for the door before Emma could dismiss him.

"I should also let you know," Emma called out. "Dr Saltzman wants to see you in the library. Lizzie, Josie and Hope should already be there."

Noel groaned so hard that he almost felt something rupture in his throat. "Of course he does..."

Emma pursed her lips. "You know that this is a safe place, don't you? If you have trouble with anyone or anything you-"

"I can come to you and talk about it..." Noel groaned. "Yeah, don't take this personally, Emma..."

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his hand still on the brassy door knob.

"...But I don't want to talk to you about it, okay?"

Emma clenched her jaw as Noel slammed the door shut, a coldness washing over her shoulders like a shawl of ice.

...This was going to take some work.

******

Noel sighed as he entered the library, the knot in his gut tightening as he met Alaric's eyes.

"Nolan," the headmaster acknowledged him tersely. "So nice of you to finally join us."

Noel rolled his eyes. Noel! My name is Noel!

"Well, sorry I took so long coming here from the other side of the school during the second-period rush. Maybe if I didn't have to go to that bullshit therapy session today, I could have been here faster."

Alaric ignored him and leaned over beside a glass display cabinet, his burly arms folded as Hope and Josie glanced at him uneasily.

"As I was saying," Alaric continued. "I volunteered everyone at the game, so stop complaining. You're lucky that it's just community service and not actual jail time."

Noel rolled his eyes. What sort of insufferable 'community' bullshit was the school up to this time?

"Context, please?" the hafu boy groaned.

Josie sighed as she sat on the backrest of a study chair. "Some stuff happened at the football game yesterday. Now Dad's punishing us."

"If by stuff," Alaric reminded her. "You mean nearly exposing us to half the Mystic Falls community, then yes, stuff indeed happened."

"Are we talking like full-on exposure?" Noel asked dryly. "Or a small slip-up? 'Cos honestly, Doc, it's a little hard to tell with how pedantic you are..."

Alaric shot Noel a look when suddenly, Lizzie spoke up:

"Can I at least offer a rebuttal in my defence, if it pleases the court?"

This ought to be good. Noel snorted to himself.

"First of all," Lizzie said, lifting her nose. "I was provoked. My response was totally proportional considering the levels of abuse that I was forced to endure..."

Noel and Hope groaned in unison. "Levels of abuse"? What the fu-

"...And secondly, if anyone should take the blame, it's Josie."

Noel almost laughed. "Damn..."

But Josie didn't see the humour. "What?!"

Lizzie took a step back from the stair railing. "I'm sorry I totally cracked under cross, but if you had just let Kaleb catch the ball-"

"You'd still be in trouble." Alaric said tersely.

"But nice job throwing your sister under the bus." Noel and Hope said in unison. The two exchanged an amused look as Josie glanced in their direction.

"...Thank you, guys." the Siphoner mumbled, her cheeks a pale red.

"Speaking of, the bus leaves in ten minutes and I expect all four of you to be on it, working together today, harmoniously and without drama. End of debate."

He emphasised those last words with a sharp glare at Noel and Hope, the two rolling their eyes in perfect unison.

"I wasn't even at the game." Hope added quickly. "Why am I being punished?"

"Ditto." Noel said. "I mean, I'd rather sit reverse cowgirl on a cactus bed than go to a football game, but I'm not sure that's enough to punish me with 'community service'..."

Alaric met their challenge with another glare, albeit a less veiled one.

"You both know what you did. All right, now go, all of you. Come on!"

Josie pursed her lips and walked away obediently, followed closely by Lizzie. But as the blonde Saltzman walked past, she gave Hope and Noel a smug, delighted smile, as if she had discovered the most tantalising gossip.

Noel dug his nails into his shirt sleeves, desperately trying not to shout some choice (potentially magic) words at her.

And as soon as the door slammed shut, the boy opened his mouth:

"This is bullshit."

Alaric didn't even turn around. "Your opinion and language are both noted, Nolan."

"Consider them seconded as well." Hope said. "Seriously?"

"What part of what I said needs translating?" Alaric questioned, keeping his back to them.

"How about the whole 'punishment' part? 'You know what you two did'? Really?"

Alaric's jaw tensed as he turned around.

"Because all I remember us doing," he pointed between himself and Hope. "Is saving your ass from getting turned into the world's most ungrateful pile of ash."

"Is that what you call losing control of your magic again?"

Noel frowned, falling silent as his headmaster glared at him. The witch glanced toward Hope for sympathy, but the Tribrid avoided his gaze.

"You nearly blew up the entire forest." Alaric continued, his hands on his hips. "It's a miracle that no innocent bystanders or trail hikers were hurt, let alone us."

Noel grit his teeth. "I keep telling you, I don't know what happened. One minute, we're coming out of that root cellar, and the next minute, I wake up on the ground!"

"I know." Alaric told him, his eyes softening the slightest amount. "But that doesn't change the fact that we risked exposing ourselves at a very bad time."

A gnawing sensation grew in Noel's stomach. He knew it wasn't his fault (not entirely, at least), but he still couldn't help but feel some responsibility about this. And even after all that, after losing control and the chaos he woke up to, the Dragon still got away.

"Then why not just keep us at the school?" Hope asked. "We fought the Dragon with you, so why not let us help you with the research too?"

"Dorian has a Masters Degree in Library Science." Alaric told her. "I think the adults have it covered."

Noel raised an eyebrow. There was a degree for how to find books and study? Talk about a cash grab.

And why did Alaric keep playing the 'adult' card like this? The adulthood certainly didn't count for shit when the Dragon attacked them; when Alaric had to run and hide while Hope fought it.

Hope mirrored Noel's frustration, her porcelain nostrils flaring as she stepped forward. "That's not fair. You only play by the grown-up rules when you don't need something from me."

"Or when you want to shut down what we have to say." Noel added.

Alaric sighed as he folded his arms. His face softened, but the steely resoluteness in his gaze persisted.

"I am spinning right now, you two. And I can't drag you or anyone else any further into this until I figure out what is going on, okay?"

Hope sneered.

"So right now, I need you both to be kids keeping a dragon-sized secret today, until I get some answers or get a clue on where this thing ran off to. Understood?"

"And what if the dragon comes back?" Noel asked, putting his hands in his pockets. "Decides that it wants that knife bad enough to hit us while we're in the Town Square?"

Alaric's jaw tensed again. Noel had a point, as hesitant as he was to admit it. They had no clue how dragons would react as a species; whether they acted on strategy, instinct or emotions like pride.

And that wasn't even counting the knife as a factor.

The dragon had been obsessive. Would it really risk attacking Noel, Hope and civilians in broad daylight to get the knife back?

"...We'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it." Alaric decided.

Noel scoffed under his breath and stormed out the door, swearing under his breath.

Great! Not only did they have to deal with a giant flaming dragon, they were stuck playing defence against a giant flaming dragon!

Noel's grumbling reached a crescendo as he stomped down the stairs, anger rolling off him like heat from a blast furnace.

Noel told them not to bring Landon into the school. He told them to keep Landon under surveillance. He told them to keep an eye on them as he left the school. And each time, Hope and Alaric ignored him!

Now look at us! Noel thought. Running around with our heads up our asses while a dragon was off licking its wounds somewhere, probably getting ready for a Round Two! Fuck!

The hallways and stairs disappeared in a blur of anger and fast-paced steps, until, before he knew it, Noel found himself in the foyer.

An uneasy feeling trickled down the back of Noel's mind and into his spine, recalling the memories he revisited during Emma's session this morning.

...I hate this part of the school. Noel said to himself.

Before his foot could even caress the foyer floor, Noel heard a footfall from the courtyard, Dorian's shadow obstructing the morning light.

"And here I was thinking I'd have to come and get you." the man said mirthlessly. "Don't want to miss the b-"

"I know you're riding some kind of smug, smartass teacher high right now, Dorian." Noel cut him off. "But I am really, really not in the mood to take more crap from teachers today."

Noel expected some retort from Dorian, some remark or threat of further punishment. But the man stepped back, his eyes wandering over Noel carefully.

The witch boy wondered if Dorian could tell what he was feeling, that venomous rage bubbling up in his body like a chemical fire. Noel was no stranger to fits of anger and "oversensitive emotions" (as Emma had called it). And today? Noel felt halfway to lethal.

But Dorian held his ground, looking Noel dead in the eye.

"Just get on the bus, Nolan. We have to be at the town square in ten minutes."

Noel moved towards the bus, sighing contemptuously as the gravel crackled under his shoes and Hope emerged from the foyer.

"Finally she shows up." Dorian remarked as Hope scowled at him. "You want to give me some attitude as well, or are you going to save it for the trip into Mystic Falls?"

Dorian's remark just poured more fuel onto the irritation and rage building in Noel. Without another thought, the witch whirled around, snarling, giving his anger full rein over his words.

"Why don't you tell her that Landon Kirby is on the bus? That'll make her get on quicker."

The words had left Noel's mouth before the boy considered their weight or sharpness. He paused, ready to take them back, but Hope had already heard them.

The girl's nostrils flared, her gaze almost murderous as she stormed after Noel. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Noel didn't say anything as he stepped onto the bus, ignoring all the derisive whispers from those aboard as he saw near Kaleb at the back.

Kaleb's eyes widened as Noel approached him and MG. "Man, you're here too?"

Noel sighed as he slumped onto the seat beside Kaleb, giving the vampire a weary look. "You know, I'm all about that community spirit..!"

Ugh, just saying those words made Noel want to gag.

"But I thought you weren't at the game?" MG asked, leaning over the back of his chair.

"I wasn't." Noel answered tersely. "I was helping Saltzman chase down that wolf and his little boy toy, Landon Kirby and then we got thrashed by a fucking dr-"

A sharp coughing sound came across the aisle from Noel. He looked to see Hope sitting a seat down and to the left of him, rubbing the front of her pearly neck as she coughed dramatically.

And giving the mother of all death glares.

Noel sighed as he took the Tribrid's hint. "Look, just forget it..."

He half-expected Kaleb to push the matter, but the vampire just shrugged, putting on a pair of headphones. "Whatever you say, bruh."

The faint beat of pop music rumbled from Kaleb's phone as Noel put his head back, his gaze meeting another's on the overhead mirror.

Josie.

The siphoner sat two seats back from Noel, her soft, caramel brown eyes causing a warm fluffy feeling to bloom in Noel's chest.

Even amongst the chatter around them, even as Dorian called out for head counts and the bus disembarked, Noel and Josie kept their eyes locked on each other's reflection; the moment feeling like it could stretch on forever.

...Until Josie relented, giving Noel a half-hearted smile before talking to a brunette beside her.

The sudden absence of Josie's face left a subtle but dull ache in Noel's heart, like a sunlit flower's warmth cut off by an overhead cloud.

The boy sighed as he stared into the space ahead of himself.

Today was going to suck. 

Well, community service is not off to a good start! 

Thank you all for your patience with this upload - almost a YEAR since I promised an update.  A lot will be happening in this particular episode, so it will be in three parts. 

And please excuse any issues with the writing and formatting, I was really pushing myself to get this chapter done and out the last few weeks. 

What are your predictions for this chapter?
How will Noel handle community service?
Has he damaged his friendship with Hope?
What about him and Josie? 

If you have any further questions about my absence or the story, please feel free to comment. I make it a mission to respond to every comment left on my works. 

Thank you <3 

- Kai-Shiro <3